


The Heart of Life

by losing_keys



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:12:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 113,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25860382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/losing_keys/pseuds/losing_keys
Summary: Harry's life has always felt a bit off balance. He should be happy, with a perfect wife and three perfect children, but something still doesn't feel right. So when Draco Malfoy comes back into Harry's life unexpectedly, with a mystery to solve that could impact the wizarding world in ways neither of them could imagine, Harry goes against all caution and befriends his old school rival. But what does he do when his feelings for Draco start to become more than friendly? And more importantly, how does he balance these newfound feelings with saving the wizarding world once again?
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown/Parvati Patil, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: most of the characters in this story and the wonderful world of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling  
> This story contains numerous original characters.

“Sorry I’m late!” Angelina's words rang out from the other room, tearing Harry’s eyes away from the confusing Twister game unfolding in his living room.  
A moment later, Angelina appeared in the doorway, one hand holding on to her five-year-old daughter, Roxanne, the other wrapped around what looked like the entirety of her quidditch equipment. Her long dark hair was barely held up in a windblown ponytail, and she was still wearing her bright blue and gold quidditch robes. At the sight of James, Albus and Lily, Roxanne abruptly dropped her mother’s hand and ran for the Twister mat. From behind her, another small figure pushed around his mother, brimming with excitement as he screamed, “James! Al! Lillllllly!” and disappeared into the thick of the Twister game.  
“Fred, there really is no need to scream,” turning to Harry, Angelina exclaimed, “Really, Harry, I am so sorry!” over the sounds of the shouts coming from the other side of the room as Harry’s kids greeted their cousins.  
“Don’t worry about it. Blimey, Ang, set your stuff down before you collapse!” Angelina was now trying to balance her knee pads while keeping a firm hand on her broom.  
“Everything’s drenched in mud from practice, I don’t think you want me to do that.” Angelina explained, glancing down at the white carpet of Harry’s living room. But before she could protest more, her arms gave out and her equipment landed all over the floor.  
“I was going to clean it first.” she mumbled apologetically, using her wand to move all her things into the corner of the room.  
“That’s what magic’s for.” Harry pointed his own wand at the offending mud and muttered “Scourify.” The mud vanished off the carpet within seconds. Turning back to Angelina, he said, “Ang, if I had known you had practice today, I wouldn’t have asked you to babysit. Ginny said it was your day off.”  
“It was supposed to be,” Angelina agreed, collapsing into the couch, “But Oliver insisted we take advantage of the weather and get some extra practicing time in.”  
“He did look outside today, right?” Harry questioned, looking through the window at the large raindrops accompanying the grey sky.  
“This is actually what Oliver has been waiting for. The weather has been so nice lately he feels we haven’t had substantial storm practice,” she reached for Lily as the three-year-old clambered into her lap, “And unfortunately, he isn’t wrong. Do you remember that one quidditch game we had third year where it downpoured the entire time? Well, of course you do,” she said, looking slightly embarrassing, no doubt thinking of the dementors that brought the match to a screeching halt, “But anyway, we somehow had a match with weather worse than that last year. Oliver wants to make Puddlemere as weather friendly as possible to avoid another mishap.”  
“Mishap?” Harry wondered, “Didn’t you win that game?”  
“Well, yes” Angelina conceded, “but only by 20 points. That is hardly a victory in Oliver’s eyes.”  
“Wow,” Harry reflected on the blunt nature of Oliver’s capitancy while he was at Hogwarts, “I don’t think I envy you for having Oliver as a captain again.”  
Angelina snorted. “I’ll take it. We are the best in the league. Even with our tosser of a coach. What I would give to have Ginny take over for Puddlemere.”  
“Well, I think Ron would have Ginny murdered if she left the Cannons, so I wouldn’t want that on your conscience if I was you.” Harry replied.  
Angelina rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell Ron to bugger off. Ginny is the best coach the UK leagues have seen in a long time.”  
Harry smiled, thinking of his wife pouring over plays late into the night; the fierceness in her eyes when she talked about her team, the Chudley Cannons. “That I can’t argue with.”  
“Oi, aunt Lina!” James yelled from across the room. “Can you spin for us? We tried to get Lily to spin for us but she wasn’t interested.”  
Harry looked down at his daughter as she turned in Angelina’s grasp to get a good look at her older brother. “I want to play, not spin!” she retorted, eyes narrowed. She was a little Ginny through and through, from her bright red hair to her refusal to put up with anything her brothers threw at her (literally or figuratively).  
“Lily, you can’t play if you don’t know the rules!” James insisted, “Fred, Roxy and Al understand the game. You’re also too small to stretch across the mat.”  
Angelina, thankfully noticing Lily was on the verge of tears, quickly said, “Lily, I am going to need a co-spinner,” lowering her voice to a whisper, she continued, “and my cospinner gets to eat cookies after dinner.”  
Lily, clearly intrigued, announced, “I’m co-spinna!” to the rest of the room, propelling herself off of Angelina’s lap to go and grab the rejected board from the ground.  
“I applaud your parenting techniques.” Harry grinned as he stood up.  
“I am taking that as a compliment.” Angelina said as she began to walk towards Lily, who was now shouting her name repeatedly.  
Harry smiled as he watched the Twister game begin and tried to ignore the disappointment he felt at leaving his kids for far less fun ventures.  
“Bye everyone! I’ll see you tonight!” he shouted over the noise. “Thank you again, Angelina!”  
Harry grabbed his coat and apparated to the chorus of “byes” and “love yous” and “right hand greens!” coming from the room. 

\----

“Thanks Rachel, I can take it from here.” Harry gave the young, blonde-headed girl a polite smile and turned to walk down the corridor.  
“Wait!” she blurted. Harry stopped and turned around reluctantly, already knowing what she was going to ask.  
“It wasn’t a good fit and I wasn’t happy,” he said bluntly. As a matter of fact, he still wasn’t, but at least his job was no longer the culprit.  
Rachel signed, relieved to see that Harry wasn’t angry about her almost question. She hesitated, then said, “But you were so good! You were on your way to becoming Head Auror! I mean, Kingsley adores you.” Her words came out in a rush.  
Harry shrugged and gave a small smile. “Sometimes what’s easy isn’t what’s best for us.”  
Rachel nodded, “That I understand. We just miss you around here, Harry. And you were among the best. Not that Ron, Padma, Nott, Reyes and the rest aren’t good!” she exclaimed, “You were just really great!”  
“Thanks, Rachel,” Harry said, smiling at her so she would know he wasn’t about to tell Ron she thought he was a poor Auror, “I’ll miss you too.”  
Rachel stammered a goodbye and made her way back to the lift, determinately not looking at Harry. He signed, knowing Rachel meant well but becoming agitated at the thought of how many of these conversations he would have to have overtime. But Harry knew what he was getting himself into when he resigned from his job as an Auror to enter into St. Mungo’s healing program. The idea even seemed crazy to him still, although he already felt more alive in healer’s training than he had ever felt as an Auror. It had taken him a while to realize that there were other ways to satisfy what Ron and Hermione referred to as his “hero complex” without having to constantly relive an entire childhood full of Dark Arts every day. With that in mind, he determinedly set off to Head Auror Savant’s office, where the man in question would discuss options for his replacement.  
When he rounded the corner to Savant’s office, he came face to face with his ex-partner Ida Reyes, a striking woman Harry had grown close to over the past couple years. Ida had glossy black hair that she always made into some type of complicated braid; today it was wrapped around her head in such a way that she looked as if she was wearing a crown. To top it off, she had woven in golden flecks that contrasted her hair impressively. She was wearing gold robes to match, a statement Harry instantly admired. Ida was bold and unapologetic, which had proven to be the perfect offset to his more reserved side. Despite how well they worked together, Ida had been the one who told him she thought he would make a great healer. Ida was a firm believer in following your heart and not doing what was expected of you. As the daughter of a pureblood family who held high expectations for their daughter’s life in England that she continuously defied, she reminded Harry of Sirius. That is probably what drew him to Ida in the first place, and the connection they quickly formed led Savant to make them partners.  
“Kamusta, Harry,” Ida smiled at him, “Let’s hope you haven’t already forgotten what that means.”  
Harry pulled a face at her. “It means “hello”. I’ve been gone for two months. I think I can handle remembering the few Filipino phrases you taught me.”  
“You amaze me everyday, Potter. Are you ready to find your replacement?”  
“Yes, although I don’t understand why I have to be here. Savant didn’t make Abbott come back and find a partner for Blueskin when she resigned,” Harry leaned back against the wall.  
Ida raised an eyebrow as she spoke, “You reckon he should have sent a memo to St. Mungos?”  
“You know what I mean,” Harry huffed.  
Ida laughed, “I’m not sure I ever do,” she looked around for a second, then leaned back towards Harry, her face suddenly somber. “I technically shouldn’t be telling you this, but it happened again,” she whispered.  
“What?” Harry whispered back, shocked. “But we haven’t had an incident for months! The extreme safety measures were lifted from Diagon Alley!”  
“The issue isn’t Diagon Alley this time,” Ida looked around again, then continued, “This attack didn’t happen in Diagon Alley. It happened at a muggle shop in Yorkshire.”  
“A muggle shop?!” Harry exclaimed.  
“Keep your voice down!” Ida chided. “You’re not an Auror. I could be fired for things like this! Even if you are Harry bloody Potter.”  
Harry nodded and stopped talking as he saw Savant round the corner.  
“Potter, Reyes!” Savant cried. He was a large man with a personality to match. Well over six feet with an imposing figure, he was a forceful man to have as the head Auror. Harry knew better than to be intimidated, however; if you were on Brutus Savant’s good side, he wouldn’t raise a finger towards you. Unless, of course, he was offering you one of his signature bear hugs.  
“I’m excited to have my dream team back together, even if it is to discuss your replacement!” he wrapped Harry in a hug and drew back with a sigh. “I’m sure you will make a great healer, Potter, but I can’t say I’m not disappointed.”  
With that, Savant flung open the door with his wand and made his way to the seat behind his desk. Ida and Harry walked in after him and took their seats opposite at the big mahogany desk.  
“You both probably think it is highly usually for me to invite Potter back here today,” Savant began, “But no one knows our dear Ida here as well as you, Potter! And, in all honesty, I get a little overwhelmed with all these Auror trainees. So many, all so eager!”  
Ida looked stunned at this. “You’re choosing me a trainee?” she blurted.  
“Well, I’m certainly not going to steal someone else’s partner, now am I? And anyway, I reckon the best way into the field is being thrown in with an expert,” He beamed at Ida. “I am of course, referring to you.”  
Ida looked like she was fighting down a few choice words that would get her fired just as quickly as telling Harry about cases. “But sir” she gritted out, “Surely there is someone else I could work with? I actually talked to Remmins about being my partner and he seemed interested.”  
Savant snorted, “Well, that may be the first time anyone has requested Remmins for anything. Surely a trainee can’t be so bad if you were settling for Remmins.”  
“I think Remmins is a brilliant Auror,” Ida insisted.  
“I’m not about to play favorites, so let’s move on,” Savant declared, as he folded his arms on the desk, “Reyes, I’m sorry to say it, but it’s a trainee or bust.”  
Harry looked from Ida to Savant, but it seemed Ida was backing down from another protest.  
“Okay. We can start the interviews,” Ida said.  
Savant beamed, “Let’s get to it then!”  
\---  
“I feel good about her,” Ida declared as soon as they were outside Savant’s office, “She reminds me of myself.”  
Harry nodded, trying to suppress his surprise at this statement. The young woman Ida and Savant had agreed upon as her new partner seemed to be nothing like the imposing and commanding woman standing next to him. Her name was Aviary Jackmason, and she was a small and petite woman who, while being beyond passionate with her love for her new job, lacked a certain grit Harry associated with every Auror he had ever met.  
“I know what you are thinking,” Ida said, looking at Harry, “But she is a muggleborn who worked hard to get into one of the most challenging careers a wizard or witch can have. I know what it is like to be completely different from the rest of your family. I also know what it is like to work your arse off. She has promise, I know it.”  
“Okay,” Harry smiled, “I trust your judgement. It’s never been wrong before.”  
Ida laughed. “If only that were true. I’ve got to get home. It is Saturday, after all. See ya, Harry.”  
“Bye, Ida.” Harry replied, watching as she pulled out her wand and apparated from the spot next to him. As soon as she left, it occurred to Harry he has never gotten the full story of what had happened in Yorkshire. Despite the fact he was no longer an Auror, Harry was very curious as to what would happen with the case he, Ida and much of the Aurors had been working on for months before he left. Three terrific attacks had occured in Diagon Alley over the course of the past eight months. Evidence suggested that owners of three shops: the Apothecary, Eeylops Owl Emporium and Trustins Cafe, had been put under the Imperius curse and had been forced to sell poisoned merchandise to customers. To make matters worse, the only wizards and witches impacted by the dreadful purchases had been muggleborns. Luckily, the Aurors had been able to save most of the wizards and witches poisoned, but numerous casualties had forced the Ministry to put Diagon Alley on high alert security measures for months. The measures had only eased in the past few weeks as threats seemed to have become nonexistent. Harry was terrified to think what could happen now that the attacks were not only resurfacing, but occurring in muggle communities. Feeling bad he wouldn’t be around to help solve the case, Harry hoped Ida and Ron would keep him in the loop as much as possible. He wanted to do anything he could, even if it was from the sidelines.  
As Harry turned to walk down the corridor, hoping to kill some time before apparating to the very meeting he was dreading, he spotted the perfect distraction. Padma was walking down the hallway towards her office, a large pile of papers balanced precariously on her arms.  
“Oi, Patil!” Harry said, “Do you want some help?”  
Padma turned, with no doubt a retort forming on her lips, when she saw it was Harry.  
“Harry! You’re still here!” she said as she slid half of her enormous stack of papers into his awaiting arms, “Ron and I just got back. He is going to be delighted to see you.”  
“You two been working all day?” Harry asked as they made their way towards Ron and Padma’s office.  
“Yes,” Padma sighed, “I think we’ll have to pull an all nighter by the looks of these paperwork stacks.”  
If Harry wasn’t mistaken, Padma didn’t look as upset as these words warranted. He knew Padma well enough to know she loved every aspect of her job, even the less glamorous parts. In all honesty, she would make a great Head Auror one day, much better than he would have. Harry may have been good at his job, but Padma was better; she was more diligent, eager and determined than anyone else in the department. Not that he would ever tell Ron that; he knew how much his friend secretly wanted to be Head Auror someday.  
As Padma reached her office door, she gave it a sharp kick with her foot. The door swung open a second later, and Harry could see Ron bent over his desk, wand pointed absentmindedly at the door. Harry was once again amazed at how well the two worked together. He and Ida had been a good team, but they were never as in sync as Ron and Padma.  
“Look who’s here!” Padma announced to Ron as she sat down at her own desk and began organizing her paperwork into piles.  
Ron looked up and smiled, “Harry! I had thought you would’ve left by now!”  
“Honestly, I should probably be at Mungo’s by now,” Harry admitted, “But I would much rather talk to my two favorite Aurors.”  
“Don’t let Ida hear you say that,” Padma murmured.  
Harry nodded in agreement as Ron said, “I don’t blame you, mate. I would be avoiding an interview with that ferret for as long as humanly possible if I was you.”  
“Ron, I told you I talked to Draco as a witness for the Trustins attack,” Padma said, looking up at Ron, “He really isn’t the same wanker he was at Hogwarts. He was still a bit distant, but he was willing to help in any way he could.”  
“He had probably helped with the attacks, that’s why he was so friendly,” Ron countered, “We do have actual proof he had a hatred for muggle-borns.”  
“Ron,” Padma snapped, “That’s circumstantial evidence. You know we have no proof he was involved. People can change, you know. Just take Nott.”  
“She has a point there,” Harry agreed, thinking of Theodore Nott, who was also working as an Auror for the Ministry. He was nothing like the vindictive and judgemental boy Harry had known at Hogwarts; he was a hardworking and kind man Harry had admired as a fellow Auror.  
“Nott was never a death eater!” Ron argued.  
“How do we know he wasn’t bloody well close to becoming one?” Padma asked, “But now we both like and trust him!”  
“Okay, Padma, I understand what you’re saying,” Ron conceded, “But I am not going to trust Malfoy until I get some hardcore proof he’s a changed man. Until then,” he said, pointing at Harry, “I am going to support Harry’s right to not want to suffer through an interview with the prat.”  
“Fine,” Padma turned to Harry, “Just remember he’s just doing his job and there is no reason to turn it into one of your schoolboy showdowns.”  
“I will, Padma,” Harry agreed, knowing full well he couldn’t make any promises. Harry had been dreading meeting with Malfoy ever since he found out he had been the reporter assigned to his up and coming article. After finding out about his sudden change in career plans, the Daily Prophet had been quick to decide they needed an exclusive on Harry’s new life. Not wanting any ridiculous rumors to spread about what the real reason for his life change was (Harry could only imagine what certain reporters could come up with), he had decided to agree to an interview. He was regretting the decision now that Malfoy, one of the Prophet’s best reporters, was assigned to his interview, which would take place at St. Mungo’s. Harry had only heard bits and pieces about Malfoy’s new life; he knew Malfoy was married with a kid and was no longer living at the Manor. Not to mention the stories he had heard from Padma and surprisingly, Ida, saying Malfoy was different than in school. If two Gryffindors thought Malfoy was tolerable, he couldn’t be that bad, right? That thought didn’t stop Harry’s stomach from dropping every time he thought of the interview.  
“Anyway,” Harry said, turning to a scowling Ron and breaking his thought spiral, “Ida told me there was another attack. What’s going on?”  
Ron opened his mouth to answer, but then glanced over at Padma.  
“You can tell him, I’m not going to rat on you,” Padma announced, “I know you’re gonna tell him anyway, so I might as well get to be involved.”  
Ron smiled gratefully at his partner, then turned back to Harry. Harry couldn’t help but admire how quickly the two reconciled.  
“Harry, there was an attack on a muggle shop this time. A place called Sandy’s Salad Bar in Yorkshire,” Ron shuddered as he continued to recount the story, “It was terrible! Sandy herself had been put under the Imperius curse for hours before we got there. Over twenty muggles were poisoned, left passed out on the floor of the restaurant.”  
“We’ve already lost four muggles,” Padma added, “And who knows if we have even hospitalized everyone who was poisoned? We were in Yorkshire for hours trying to track down anyone who went to Sandy’s yesterday. Not to mention all the obliviating we had to do.”  
“That’s awful,” Harry said, shaking his head.  
“Well, we hope that between us, Nott, Harris, Blueskin, Finch-Fletchley, Reyes and her new partner, we can get a task force together and figure out the best way to tackle this,” Ron looked down at his cluttered desk, “In the meantime, we’ll do the rounds of paperwork that come with a muggle attack. Really, Harry, you may have had the right idea getting out of this madness.”  
“You know you don’t mean that, Ron,” Padma implored, “You love this job almost as much as I do.”  
Harry looked to Ron as he gave a soft smile and a “Oh, I know” in agreement. Padma was right; Ron really did love his job. He always had. It’s partly what made Harry realize he didn’t love his.  
“Well, I ought to be off,” Harry said, nodding at the two of them, “I can’t avoid the interview forever.”  
“See ya tomorrow, Harry?” Ron asked.  
“See ya then.”  
\---

Harry walked into St. Mungo’s canteen, the bright lights of the large room immediately contrasting the residual gloom from outside. The smell of today’s chips wafted from the kitchen, making Harry’s stomach growl in protest. It was late afternoon, so the canteen was relatively empty except for a couple Healer’s enjoying a quick break. Harry recognized Dean Thomas, a close friend of his, and he immediately waved and began to gravitate towards his friend until he remembered he was going to be late for the real reason he was at the hospital on his day off. He gave Dean a quick, “see you tomorrow” and headed for one of the conference rooms located off of the canteen.  
Moving towards the door, Harry was hit by a sudden bout of nerves. Quickly telling himself to snap out of it, Harry pushed the door open. He had faced much worse than an adult Malfoy in conference room B; there was no reason for him to be nervous.  
The gust of courage amounted to nothing, however, as Harry realized the room was empty. Harry checked his watch; he himself was two minutes late. The Malfoy he had known never seemed to be the type to be late to anything. Before Harry could wonder if the prat had flaked out on him, the door swung open.  
Without any intention of doing so, Harry gave a small gasp. The Malfoy who walked into the room looked nothing like the boy Harry remembered at Hogwarts or the man Harry expected to interview him today. Malfoy’s signature slicked back hair he had adorned for the entirety of his time at Hogwarts was gone, replaced by fine strands of wild blond hair that was falling into his eyes without Malfoy seeming to be any the wiser. His clothes were nothing Harry could have ever imagined a Malfoy wearing. He had on distinctively muggle clothes; a soft blue jumper paired with black jeans and grey pointed shoes. What possibly surprised Harry the most was the kid walking into the room behind Malfoy. He was obviously Malfoy’s son, but he was not the pristine and proper kid Harry had envisioned. He looked like he was around James’s or Al’s age, and dressed just as they would, in a simple t-shirt and pair of blue jeans. Malfoy’s vivid white-blonde hair and pointed chin were instantly recognizable in his son, but his eyes were a soft brown that screamed something new all together. Neither of them, Harry realized with a shock, reminded Harry of Lucius or Narcissa or any Malfoy-Black he had ever encountered.  
“It’s rude to stare, Potter,” Malfoy said, eyebrows raised, “Even Scorpius knows that.”  
Harry tried not to look taken aback as he answered, “I didn’t know it was a team interview,” trying to keep any aggression out of his voice in front of Malfoy’s son.  
“That, I apologize for,” Malfoy explained as he took a seat at the table and gestured for his son to do the same, “Scorpius’s mother couldn’t get out of work on time to pick him up. She should be here any minute, however. She works on the first floor.”  
“She does?” Harry said, surprised, “I had no idea. Is she a healer?”  
But before Malfoy could answer, a ringing sound emitted from his pocket. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flip phone.  
“I have to get his,” he mumbled, walking towards the door and out into the hallway.  
Harry didn’t even try to conceal his shock. He turned to Scorpius and asked, “Your dad has a phone? A muggle phone?”  
“Yes,” Scorpius answered, “He has started to work with muggle newspapers so it only made sense for him to start using their form of communication,” he continued, giddy now, “I only wish I could have one! I mean, owl post is wonderful, but I have many friends in school who have never even heard of owl’s being used for delivering letters!”  
Harry watched, mouth hanging open, as he tried to unpack all of this information. Draco Malfoy was using a muggle phone and his son, a virtual smaller version of Malfoy, was jealous. Not to mention Malfoy was writing for muggle newspapers as well as the Prophet. Trying to come up with any solution to what was going on, Harry smiled at Scorpius, “That’s too bad, I find them quite useful too,” Harry continued, hoping to find out about Malfoy’s elusive wife, “So, your mother. Is she a healer?”  
“No,” Scorpius responded, once again excited, “She works as an expert on magical creatures! The first floor, as you probably know, is for patients that have been hurt by magical creatures. She works with healers to help cure patients with injuries from the most random animals I have ever heard of. And I know plenty,” Scorpius continued, “My mom got me my first book on magical creatures when I was only four years old!”  
“That sounds really cool,” Harry said. His racing mind was forming many more questions about Scorpius’s magical creature loving mother, but he thought it to be highly inappropriate to ask them to a child, no matter how articulate and intelligent this particular child appeared to be. Harry wanted to know whether Malfoy’s wife was of pureblood heritage, and how Malfoy had ended up with someone who held a profession that seemed far from what Malfoy deemed acceptable while at Hogwarts. Harry had not forgotten Malfoy’s attempts to get Hagrid fired in Care of Magical Creatures and his blatant disrespect for both the class and the creatures involved in it. Above all, though, he wondered whether Malfoy’s wife held the same prejudiced views of muggles and muggleborns the Malfoys and Blacks had held for centuries.  
Harry thought it would be safe enough to ask what house Scorpius’s mother had been in when she was at Hogwarts, but before he could, Malfoy walked back into the room.  
“Sorry about that,” Malfoy said, placing a hand on his son’s shoulders, “You been bothering my son, Potter?”  
“Not at all,” Scorpius piped up, “I was just going to tell him more about my favorite magical creatures.”  
Malfoy smiled at his son, “I’m sure Potter would’ve loved to hear about your scholar- level knowledge of hippogriffs, but I’m afraid I see your mother.”  
Sure enough, a woman had appeared in the doorway. She had short black hair that fell into easy waves around her round, pleasant face. Her sea green healer robes matched perfectly with her turquoise eyes. She was stunning in an easy way, a complete contrast to Malfoy’s pristine nature.  
She turned to Malfoy and laughed, “You act as if seeing me is a death omen.”  
“Astoria, you know I think nothing of the sorts. I was only saying it would be hard for Scorpius to give up the obligatory hour it would take to explain his knowledge of hippogriffs to Potter,” Malfoy smiled down at his son, something Harry realized he did with ease.  
Astoria laughed and turned to Harry, holding out her hand, “Astoria Greengrass. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter.”  
“You as well,” Harry said, shaking her hand, “Your son was telling me you work in the hospital as a magical creatures expert. That must be an exciting job!”  
Astoria beamed and nodded in excitement, “Oh it is, Mr. Potter. Never boring.”  
“Well, as much as I would love to hear you two talk about magical creatures for the next couple hours,” Malfoy said, turning to his wife and child, “I need to start this interview sometime today.”  
“Okay, okay,” Astoria reached for Scoprius, “Hopefully I will see you around the hospital, Mr. Potter.”  
“You as well,” Harry agreed, waving to Scorpius as he left hand in hand with his mother.  
Silence followed as Malfoy began to gather everything he needed for the interview. Harry was still in shock from the functional family scene he had just witnessed. Anytime he had imagined Malfoy’s life as an adult, he had never envisioned anything quite so normal.  
“Scorpius and Astoria seem wonderful,” he blurted, hoping to break the silence he found awkward, although Malfoy seemed infruingatly indifferent to the quiet in the absence of his wife and child.  
“They are,” he agreed sharply, “But right now I have a job to do. They shouldn’t have been here at all.”  
Surprised at the sudden change in Malfoy’s behavior, Harry said nothing. He wondered if the new Malfoy he had briefly witnessed was only for his family’s benefit.  
“Let’s begin,” Malfoy pulled out a quill and began to write, “How long were you an Auror before deciding on a career change?”  
Harry held his tongue on the numerous questions he had been forming about Malfoy’s life and answered the question, “I went into Auror training in ‘99. The training took about two years to complete. This year would’ve been my ninth year in the field.”  
“Like to drag out the story, don’t you?” Malfoy mumbled, scratching down Harry’s words on a parchment.  
“I’ve been through a lot of these,” Harry retorted, “I know what reporters really want me to say.”  
“I’m not just any reporter,” Malfoy said, dipping his quill in more ink, “All I need is an answer to my question.”  
Harry was taken aback by how waspish Malfoy was being towards him. He had expected the interview to go a lot more smoothly after the way he had seen Malfoy talk to his son and wife. Of course, Harry reasoned, Malfoy would naturally be nice to the people he loves and cares about. Harry was nothing but a bitter reminder of schoolboy rivalries and cruel interactions.  
“Fine,” Harry crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. If Malfoy wanted this to be a bitter and jaded reunion, Harry would make it one, “I have to say, asking the questions instead of criticizing me for not answering correctly might make this run at your desired pace, don’t you think?”  
Malfoy shot Harry a glare but continued on, “Why did you choose to be a healer?”  
\---  
The rest of the interview dragged on in a series of jaded questions and short answers. Harry didn’t need to make the interview his own; he hadn’t even been eager to go through with it in the first place. All in all, Harry was more than happy when Malfoy announced he had asked his last question and Harry was free to go. Harry was about to stand up when a breathless Healer Brayan ran into the room. Darius Brayan was the head of the Healer Training department; he oversaw the courses Harry took and had guided Harry through multiple hands-on practices with actual patients. Harry liked Healer Brayan, but he could be a bit overbearing at times. Brayan thought quite highly of himself, and it wasn’t hard to see why; Brayan had irrefutable good looks. With his curly dark hair, deep brown eyes and dark skin, he was the definition of a good-looking bloke and he knew it. He played into any attention he could get. Despite this, Harry still couldn’t help but like the guy; he was a brilliant teacher, being patient, kind and incredibly intelligent. However, Harry had a sinking suspicion Brayan’s sudden burst into the room had nothing to do with Harry’s training and a whole lot to do with the interview that was about to be published in the most popular wizarding newspaper in London.  
“Mr. Malfoy,” Brayan gasped, beaming down at Malfoy, “I can’t believe I almost missed your interview with my star trainee here!” he gestured towards Harry and continued, “I have much to say about Harry’s work ethic and continued successes as a trainee, and I am sure Mr. Potter has just as much to say about my influence on him as a teacher and mentor!”  
Malfoy looked as if he was trying to hold back a laugh. Harry couldn’t help but respect him in the moment.  
“Who exactly are you, sir?” asked Malfoy, keeping his voice even.  
“Healer Brayan!” Brayan exclaimed, moving to pat Harry on the back, “I’m sure Harry here has told you plenty about me over the course of your little interview!”  
Harry shot Malfoy a look, and to his surprise, Malfoy actually seemed to adhere to it.  
“Oh, yes, plenty, Mr. Brayan,” Malfoy said, trying his best to look pleased to continue with the interview, although Harry could spot the clear annoyance blooming behind his facade of a smile, “I’m sure I can fit whatever you have to say about Mr. Potter into my story.”  
“Fantastic! Where to begin?” Brayan ran a hand through his hair and began to speak.  
After a good thirty minutes of Brayan telling his side of Harry’s life story (from a man who had know Harry for only a couple months, he sure had plenty to say), Brayan excused himself after a nurse who had been searching for him asked him to finish the trainee class he had been running before he came sprinting to Harry’s interview. Once Brayan was gone, silence quickly consumed the room as Malfoy moved to pack up his things.  
Harry moved to speak again, not quite knowing why, “Sorry ‘bout Brayan. He can be a bit much, can’t he?”  
Malfoy shrugged, “It’s the job, and he’s your boss,” he chided, “There’s no need to make it personal.”  
Harry felt that’s exactly what Malfoy was doing, “You know,” Harry snapped, “I’m also a part of your job. It wouldn’t hurt you to act kindly to me for one bloody afternoon. You could at least pretend you don’t hate me, it wouldn’t kill you.”  
Malfoy looked almost surprised at Harry’s sudden aggression. He hesitated, then said, his voice even, “I don’t hate you.”  
Harry froze, not knowing what to say. After a moment, he asked, “Then why act horribly towards me throughout the entire interview?”  
Malfoy gave a short laugh, “Not everything’s about you, Potter.”  
With that, Malfoy stood up and exited through the door, leaving Harry somehow even more confused than before.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry was glad to be immediately greeted by the bouts of laughter ringing throughout the hall as he walked into his house. He wandered towards the sounds of his noisy kids, grateful that some things never change. For as much as Harry’s life has seemed to change around him for the past couple years, he knew he could count on his three kids to keep him grounded. Walking into the room, Harry was greeted with quite a sight; Angelina with a squirming Lily in her lap was accompanied by Fred, Roxy and James around a Sorry! board spread out on the floor. Apparently the dreaded Sorry had just been issued on Fred, because he grabbed Roxy’s game pieces and threw them across the room, narrowly missing Harry.  
“Bad timing?” Harry asked, laughing.  
Angelina turned to Harry and rolled her eyes, “I’m not sure how I feel about this game, Harry. It has seemed to turn my kids against each other.”  
“I got to Sorry Fred three times, Uncle Harry!” Roxanne said giddily, as Lily jumped out of Angelina’s lap to wrap herself around Harry’s legs.  
After reaching down to pick up his daughter and give her a kiss on the cheek, Harry smiled down at Roxanne. She definitely had her dad’s spirit; she loved anything that had to do with messing with her older brother.  
“I’m sure Fred loved that, Rox,” Harry said. Turning to Angelina, he continued, “Perhaps I should’ve warned you about this one. James and Al didn’t talk to one another for a couple days after our last family game of Sorry.”  
“I’ll talk to Rox,” Fred piped up, “If she admits she’s a terrible sport!”  
“I am not!” Roxanne cried, turning to her brother, “You’re just jealous I’ve gotten all the Sorry cards so far in the game!”  
“And you only used them on me because I won Charades!” Fred argued, “Otherwise it would make no sense to Sorry me! James has been winning this whole time!”  
“I Sorry-ed you not because I’m a sore loser, but because you’re my brother,” Roxanne pointed out.  
“That’s fair,” James added, That's why I always Sorry Al.”  
“On that note,” Harry jumped in, as Angelina began to laugh, “Where is Albus?”  
“In the other room with Rose,” Angelina said.  
“Hermione dropped her off?” Harry asked. Rose was Ron and Hermione’s daughter.  
“Yep. She needed to go back to the Ministry for the afternoon so I took her in.”  
“Angelina,” Harry said, shaking his head, “I don’t know how you do it.”  
“You act like we’re wild animals,” James scoffed, “We’re not that much of a pain.”  
“No, you are all delights,” Angelina assured, as Rose and Albus walked into the room.  
“Uncle Harry!” Rose exclaimed, running over to give Harry a hug.  
“Hiya, sweetheart,” Harry said as he and Lily were wrapped in Rose’s arms. Smiling down at his niece, he felt like the world was making more and more sense.  
“Group hug!” shouted Roxy.  
Sorry was quickly abandoned as Roxy, Fred, Al and James all made their way across the room to throw themselves around Rose, Lily and Harry. Within seconds, Harry’s face had broken out into a huge grin. The confusion and the challenges of the day ebbing away, Harry said to Angelina, “Better get in on this! These kids hug like nobody’s business.”  
Grinning, Angelina hurried over and enveloped the group in her arms, piercing the room with her laughter as Lily shouted, “Auntie Liiiiiiiiinnnna!”  
\----  
Harry was lying in bed, a book stretched unread across his lap. He hated being alone in his room while the rest of the house clung to silence; even Lily had gone to sleep. Ginny was not home yet, although Harry had assumed “a couple drinks with the team” wouldn’t take until past midnight. Harry shifted in bed. He had thought this lingering feeling of emptiness would go away once he had left the Auror office. He had felt better after the decision; Harry had known for awhile that he had been unhappy with his job. Admitting this to himself had been the hardest part of his decision to leave. Harry had decided in sixth year he wanted to be an Auror and he had never looked back, not even momentarily. He’d never even explored any other job options. Hermione had been the one at school who looked intensively through every pamphlet they had received on career choices. That is probably why she found the perfect job for herself. Hermione was the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. With all of his closest friends finding obvious satisfaction in their respective professions, Harry felt odd with his disenfranchisement by his own career. It’s not that Harry had hated being an Auror. There were many things he had enjoyed; the opportunity to help protect people being the highest on the list. But Harry had felt for too long that his whole life was one long fight against the Dark Arts, and after a while he felt trapped in his past and the person everyone expected him to be. Becoming a healer was something new that felt so right. He could help the wizarding community while making a new world for himself. Despite this, Harry still felt restless. And guilty. He had a wonderful wife, three healthy, smart and inquisitive kids and more friends and family than he deserved. Harry shouldn’t feel anything but incomplete with the long list of positive factors in his life. While Harry could tell himself this over and over, it didn’t change the way he felt or stop his brain from going at a mile a minute. What Harry needed was a distraction, which he hoped would come in the form of Ginny any minute now.  
But it wasn’t until one o’clock that he heard Ginny arrive via the Floo. A few moments later, Ginny walked into the room, dressed in a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans.  
By the smell that immediately fell over him as soon as Ginny walked in, he could tell she had had a large amount to drink. However, Ginny looked just as composed as ever as she flopped on top of her side of the bed. She could hold her liquor better than anyone he had ever met.  
“How was the bar?” Harry asked, propping himself up on his elbows as he turned to face his wife.  
Ginny started, “Bloody hell, Harry, you’re awake? I thought you were asleep.”  
“I wish I was asleep,” Harry mumbled.  
“Well, that’s pleasant,” Ginny scoffed, “I didn’t know it was that bad to talk to me.”  
“Gin, you know that’s not what I meant,” Harry said, slightly annoyed.  
“I know. Don’t think I didn’t notice you don’t sleep most nights,” Ginny responded, looking over at Harry, “You can talk about whatever is wrong, you know.”  
Harry stared at his wife. It was all about to tumble out: his unhappiness, his confusion, his emptiness. But the look in Ginny’s eyes stopped him. They looked soft, worried, inviting. He didn’t want her to carry his own sadness.  
“I’ve just been really tired lately, that’s all,” he lied, “healer’s training takes up all of my energy.”  
Ginny nodded and said nothing. Harry tried to read her face, but it was blank, impenetrable. What was she thinking?  
“I love you,” he murmured, to break the silence that had fallen in the room.  
“Love you too, Harry.”  
\---  
Harry opened the door of the Burrow to the smell of mashed potatoes, ham and something sweet (which Harry hoped was Molly’s blueberry crumble, his personal favorite). Weekly Sunday lunches at the Burrow never failed to be the highlight of Harry’s week. Nothing rang in the start of a new week quite like Molly Weasley’s renowned cooking and an afternoon of laughter.  
“My favorite sister!” George shouted as Harry, Ginny and the kids walked in. He was sitting with Angelina and Arthur on the sofa while Rose, Fred and Bill and Fleur’s daughter Dominique sat on the ground playing gobstones at their feet.  
“That one never seems to get old,” Ginny said, shaking her head at her brother, “Your level of humor never ceases to amaze me.”  
“Act high and mighty all you want, dear sis,” George teased, “You know you love my jokes.”  
Ginny pulled a face and moved to say hi to Angelina and her father. Harry did the same, as Lily, Albus and James joined the group on the floor. Within seconds, Rose and Albus sprang to their feet and were off towards the backdoor. Harry knew what they were doing; Molly had wanted someone to de-gnome the garden, and he knew Al and Rose would volunteer. The two had taken to playing the game Harry had once played with Ron and his siblings while de-gnoming the garden, that being swinging the gnomes around and seeing how far they could throw them. Rose and Al had taken the game to the next level. They had made makeshift quidditch hoops that they would set up at various distances from the garden for different amounts of points. Harry admired the two’s ability to make a game out of anything; they had been making up games as a pair ever since they could walk. If Harry had thought he, Ron and Hermione were inseparable, he had thought wrong. Rose and Al were never not together if they could help it.  
As Ginny settled in an armchair to talk, Harry made his way to the kitchen to help with lunch, yelling for James to do the same. All adults and kids took turns helping Molly with dinner. This week he, James, Roxanne, Bill, Fleur and Bill and Fleur’s son, Louis, were on the list. Fleur was talking to the group as Harry entered,  
“Victore sent a letter just yesterday telling us how much she loves Charms. That was always my strongest subject as well, so it was wonderful to hear she was a natural. Of course, I was taking it at Beauxbatons, but the classes I attended at Hogwarts were just as good! I only hope she makes some more friends soon. Teddy is a wonderful boy, but a young girl needs to learn to make new friends she hasn’t known since birth…”  
“Harry!” Molly cut in, looking relieved to have a reason to stop Fleur’s tangent. Molly and Fleur got along well, much better than they did when Fleur was first engaged to Bill, but Harry knew Fleur’s ability to talk without end could get to Molly.  
“Hullo, everybody,” Harry smiled as he crossed the room to give Molly a hug. After she released him and he listened to a round of her usual anxious reminders of how thin he looked, Harry went to grab a knife by a large pile of carrots clearly waiting for him. He handed a second knife to James, who himself had just left a hug from Molly and began to cut using his wand as Fleur veered into a new tangent about Dominique's new ambition to be a quidditch player when she grew up. Louis, who was cutting potatoes next to James and Harry, leaned over to whisper, “She’s already told this story more times then I can count. Dom’s never even been on a broom for more than twenty seconds!”  
Harry and James held back laughter as Louis turned back to his potatoes. A few more minutes passed with Fleur talking about Dom’s quidditch aspirations. When Fleur paused to get a drink of water, Molly quickly took advantage, “It’s a pity Ron and Hermione couldn’t be here today, isn’t it?” she interjected.  
“They aren’t here?” Harry asked. He had assumed they were outside setting up for lunch. The weather had completely transformed itself from the previous day’s gloom, with promising sunshine and the delightful dregs of what had been a surprisingly warm autumn.  
“No,” Molly said, frowning, “They had business to finish at the Ministry.”  
“Because of what happened on Friday?” Harry asked.  
“Yes,” Molly answered.  
“What happened on Friday?” Louis questioned.  
“Yeah!” Roxy added, not one to be uninvolved.  
“Nothing,” Molly said firmly, turning to the kids, “Private Ministry business.”  
“Bullocks!” Roxy protested, “None of you work for the Ministry!”  
“And we are all old enough to know,” James added, “We know that not everything that happens is peaches and cream!”  
“They have a point there, Mum,” Bill said to Molly, “We can tell them what we know, which isn’t much.”  
Molly looked like she was about to argue, but she only huffed and said, “Fine, but this better not be the only topic of discussion at lunch today!”  
Bill turned to the three kids and explained that the attacks they had heard about in Diagon Alley had happened again in a muggle village. When he finished, James spoke,  
“Do they have any idea who’s behind all of this?”  
“Not that any of us know. Did Ron tell you any more, Harry?” Bill asked.  
“No,” Harry spoke as Molly shot him a warning look, “no worries, Molly, I have no more information than you or Bill. But,” he reassured, “Uncle Ron, Padma and Ida all said they are working hard to stop these terrible people. There is no reason to worry.”  
“Exactly,” Molly said, pointing her wand at James, Louis and Harry’s finished piles and transporting them through the air to a pot on the stove, “No reason to bring down Sunday lunch. Ron and Hermione may even be by later, so we will not fret.”  
“Well said, Molly,” Fleur said, “Did I tell you all about how Louie received full marks on his last spelling exam?”  
\----  
Feeling pleasantly full, Harry sat outside with Molly, watching the afternoon activities play out around him. Rose, Al and Roxy were busy elaborating on the gnome tossing game by creating an obstacle course of sorts while James, Fred, Dom, Louis played a game of football with Ginny, Angelina, George and Bill. Harry had taught his kids the game and it had quickly become a family favorite at the weekly Burrow lunches. Dom was easily the best at the game and was leading her team of Ginny, Bill and Fred to what Harry assumed would be victory. Arthur and Fleur were talking while Lily played with bubbles Arthur was creating out of his wand.  
“They really do love that game,” Molly observed as Dom scored a goal and her whole team rallied around her, shouting cheers.  
Harry nodded, feeling disappointed he had decided to opt out of playing to make the teams even.  
Molly glanced over at Harry, her eyes suddenly filled with the warm concern he associated with his mother-in-law.  
“Harry, dear,” she asked tentatively, “Is everything okay?”  
Surprised, Harry’s stomach did an odd turn. Molly had a sixth sense for sadness left undetected by anyone else. Yet, Harry couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was feeling anything more than content on this lazy Sunday afternoon.  
“Of course, Molly,” Harry reassured, giving her what he hoped was a convincing smile, “Why wouldn’t it be?”  
“Well, I just thought maybe your interview yesterday went poorly,” Molly said, “You and Mr. Malfoy have a...well… complicated history.”  
Harry snorted, thinking of how much of an understatement that was. As a matter of fact, he had felt particularly out of it since the interview yesterday, but he didn’t really want to unpack any of that. He had spent so much of his childhood trying to understand Draco Malfoy, the last thing he needed to let himself dwell on was the complicated man he had encountered again yesterday.  
“The interview went well,” Harry said, smiling at Molly, “I am fine, really.”  
Molly nodded, not looking entirely convinced, “Well, Harry, you know you can talk to me whenever you need, right?”  
“Of course,” Harry assured, turning back to the football game as a screaming Angelina scored a goal. He tried to replace the nagging feeling that he should just talk to Molly with the observation of the rather insane football game that had now reached a new level of competitiveness as Dom told her father to “guard the goal, not just stand like a tree in the center of it!” Leaning back into his chair, Harry let himself laugh and forget about anything that could possibly ruin this lovely afternoon.  
\----  
“Are you sure you’re alright to take all the kids, Molly?” Harry asked.  
“Harry, you ask that every bloody time. You know very well I am capable of watching my grandchildren,” Molly declared.  
“And you act as if she will be all alone,” Arthur cut in, feigning mock offense, “I am capable of helping, you know.”  
“Of course, Dad,” Ginny smirked, “I believe full-heartedly you won’t lose any of them in Diagon Alley.”  
“It was one time, Gin!” Arthur protested, “And you were lost for less than ten minutes.”  
“Ten minutes!” Molly exclaimed, “You said it was less than two!”  
“Well, off you go, Harry, Gin,” Arthur said, guilty avoiding Molly’s withering gaze, “Have fun with Dean and Seamus!”  
Harry and Ginny said their goodbyes to the room full of kids and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley (who was looking as if she was not soon going to forget Arthur’s fib) and hurried out the door towards where George, Angelina, Bill and Fleur were standing.  
“Ready, you two?” George said, arm around his wife, “Or should we wait another ten minutes while you go and snog behind the broom shed?”  
Ginny sent a look reminiscent of her mothers at George and snapped, “I’ll bloody kiss Harry when I please.”  
Confused about the direction Ginny took with her retort, Harry flushed slightly and said, “Let’s apparate, then?”  
They were heading to Seamus and Dean’s house, a large flat in London. About once a month or so, Seamus and Dean held a little get together at their house for drinks and appetizers (the appetizers being mainly for Ron: most of the guests came from lunch at the Burrow and only Ron could be hungry after that). It was a tradition Harry was quite fond of. No one knew how to have a good time like Dean and Seamus. It was also a great excuse to have a kid-free evening where he saw many of his closest friends.  
“Yes,” Angelina interjected, as George looked like he was going to respond, “Dean and Seamus are expecting us.”  
The six of them pulled out their wands and apparated to the side of Seamus and Dean’s building. Harry quickly gulped in bouts of air as he steadied himself: no matter how many times he apparated, Harry always felt put off by the tightness in his chest and the weariness his body experienced once he reappeared. Despite the fact apparition would never be his favorite, Harry had no doubts in his mind that it was the most practical way to get from one place to the next and stuck with it for daily commutes.  
Harry followed the group as they entered the building, said their hellos to the doorman, Tony, and made their way up the stairs to Dean and Seamus’s flat. Ginny stepped up to the door and knocked. A moment later, Dean appeared, drink in hand.  
“Oi, the party has arrived!” Dean cheered, opening the door wide to let everyone in.  
“Mate, you do know it’s Sunday afternoon,” Ginny grinned, walking in to give Dean a hug.  
“Yes, but no one has kids! Seamus and haven’t gotten you all alone without your kids in forever!” Dean said.  
“You act like their kids are monsters,” Seamus teased, appearing at Dean’s side and smiling at his guests.  
“You know I love kids,” Dean said, placing an arm around his husband, “But I can’t act like a plastered fool around them. Especially Roxy. At that one Christmas Eve party she took away my wand and said I wasn’t allowed to use it until the morning. She was five at the time!”  
“Cheers to that, mate,” George said, Accio-ing a beer and raising it up to Dean’s glass, “My daughter is going to be making good choices.”  
Angelina rolled her eyes, “George, I’m going to say this once. Drink as much as you like, but I am not accountable for whatever happens at the store tomorrow when you are hungover and bloody exhausted.”  
“No worries, my darling!” George exclaimed, “Dean here has the finest hangover potion in all the land!”  
“And who says I won’t be needing it myself?” Dean asked.  
Feigning mock offense, George responded, “And let my store run itself into the ground? I thought we were mates!”  
Laughing, Harry made his way with the rest of the group towards the living room. Much of the regular crowd was already there: Parvati, Lavender, Neville, Hannah and Luna were all seated either on the couch or in armchairs. Harry sat down on one of the couches next to Neville and said hello to everyone in the room.  
“Harry, how are you?” Luna inquired, leaning towards Harry. He watched as her large earrings, shaped as hummingbirds, dangled wildly around her head.  
“Great, Luna,” Harry smiled at his friend, a little put off by how many people were asking that very question today.  
“I’m surprised at that, frankly,” Luna added, shaking her head and sending the hummingbirds in frantic circles, “With all the evidence about your head Healer being part of a secret society.”  
Harry held back a laugh as next to him, Neville gave a soft snort. Healer Brayan was about the least likely person to be part of a secret anything.  
“I’ll keep my eyes peeled for anything suspicious,” Harry reassured Luna.  
“You better,” Neville mumbled beside him, “The last person Luna told me was untrustworthy was Hannah’s brother, and she ended up being very correct.”  
Hannah, seated on the other side of Neville, rolled her eyes, “Neville, he gave you one Bat-Bogey hex. And anyway, it’s tradition in our family to hex whoever we become engaged to!”  
“A bloody good tradition that is!” Neville countered, “Not to mention the fact it was a rather good Bat-Bogey! I’m starting to think Harvin’s been taking lessons from Ginny.”  
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Harry said, remembering the fierce Bat-Bogey hexes Ginny gave while at Hogwarts.  
Luna then launched into a story of how her father once told her that the bats in central Europe started a protest against the implications of the Bat-Bogey hex, in which Harry was finding himself wishing were true, just by the absurdity of the thought. Not long after, the group turned its attention to Dean, who had begun telling a rather bizarre story of a patient he had treated this week who had a garden growing out of his chest. Dean had just finished telling them “he rather liked the cucumbers, but the radishes needed work” when a knock sounded at the door.  
“Who could it be?” Seamus wondered, as he looked around the room, “Everyone’s here.”  
“We’ll find out,” Dean answered, already moving towards the door.  
Dean opened the door and greeted the party to an excited cheer. Harry watched as Ron, Hermione, Padma, Ida and Aviary trailed into the flat.  
“You made it!” Seamus gasped, “I thought you all would be at the Ministry all night! Even the Games and Sports department has been talking about the incident nonstop.”  
“We all managed to get off early tonight,” Ron said, “Although we’ll be facing mountains of paperwork and meetings tomorrow,” then, as if something had just occurred to him, he gestured to his fellow Aurors and said to Dean and Seamus, “I hope it’s not a problem I invited some extra Aurors. We could all use a break, and Sunday’s at your flat is the perfect way to do just that.”  
“Tosh, Ron!” Seamus said heartily, “of course it’s alright! How are you, Padma, Ida and…” he paused, not recognizing Aviary, “I don’t think we’ve met?”  
“I’m Aviary, Ida’s new partner,” she said, beaming, “I love you flat!”  
“Thanks!” Seamus smiled back at her and then exclaimed, “I like you already!”  
“He’s quite easy to please,” Harry heard Ron mutter to Aviary as Seamus turned to talk to Ida about how cool her hair was (she had two braids rolled into buns on the sides of her head. In the middle of each bun was a sparkler that must have been charmed to remain burning without catching her hair on fire. Harry was also very impressed, and he wasn’t the only one. Luna was on the edge of her seat, staring with fascination at the sparklers).  
The group of five eventually made their way across the room and found seats (Seamus and Dean made plenty of chairs whenever they invited people over). Hermione had taken a chair in between him and Luna after she gave Harry a hug. He couldn’t help but notice she seemed agitated and a little morose.  
“It’s great to see you, Hermione,” he said. Hermione looked over at him and sighed.  
“You too, Harry,” Hermione hesitated, then asked, “Is it completely irresponsible for me to not be at work right now?”  
Harry couldn’t help himself; he smiled, having realized she was nursing her usual guilt whenever she took time for herself.  
“Ron made you come tonight?” he inquired.  
“Yes,” Hermione admitted, “And I should not have listened. I’m the head of a department in the middle of a crisis. I should be there, sending more letters to foreign Ministries.”  
“Hermione,” Harry reassured, “You have most likely been sending owls and answering floo calls all day. You can’t stay in the office all night. You and all the Aurors deserve a chance to recoup. The Ministry will not fall apart in your absence.”  
Hermione sighed again, but gave Harry a soft smile, “You’re right Harry, of course you are. I just don’t want any Ministries to think we aren’t doing everything to prevent more attacks.”  
Harry laughed, “Hermione, you have proved to Ministries time and time again that you and the rest of the British Ministry will do anything to aid the wizarding world. Even the Spanish Minister likes you.”  
Hermione nodded at this; she couldn’t refute the fact the Spanish minister, that had once accused the Department of International Magical Cooperation of being a whole department of “pelagatos” (which essentially is a fun way to say the department was useless and got nothing done) now sent weekly updates to Hermione on both the Spanish Ministry and his own family (Hermione even helped pick out baby names for his daughter). Hermione was a force of nature and Harry had no doubts in his mind that she would have foreign assistance and cooperation for the attacks within days.  
“Oh, Harry, you’re right,” Hermione said, “And I do wish to take a break from floo calls. I was at my desk responding to the French and Filipino ministers for hours! Thank goodness Ida was there to help. She took a break from her work to help me answer all of Janika's questions. I’ve been meaning to learn more Filipino due to all the times Janika calls. She is a very active minister and it would be much easier to take her owls without worrying about where Ida is at the moment.”  
“It’s not a problem, Hermione,” Ida said. She was sitting on the other side of Luna and had been answering countless questions Luna had about her hair, “Janika Aquino is a godsend to the Philippines, so it’s my pleasure to help you talk to her.”  
“Thank you, Ida. But,” Hermione declared, “As head of IMC, I should know more languages.”  
“Hermione, you know more languages than anyone I’ve ever met,” Harry countered.  
“That’s not true!” Hermione exclaimed, “Barty Crouch Sr. knew more! He’s making me look bad as one of my predecessors!”  
“Mione, he hid his convicted son for years when he was supposed to be in Azkaban!” Harry said, shaking his head in amazement at his friend, “And anyway, because I know that doesn’t change how you feel, I’ve heard he was actually quite bad at French. That is one of the languages you said was easiest to learn. If he’s bad at it, who’s to say how well he could speak many of the other languages Percy claimed he knew?”  
“It’s true,” Fleur piped up from a few chairs away, “He could barely speak French. Viktor also said his Bulgarian was frightful as well.”  
“There you go,” Harry said.  
“Oh, all right,” Hermione conceded, “But I still want to learn Filipino.”  
Laughing, Harry dives into a conversation with Hermione about how the French minister’s owl tripped on the windowsill while taking a letter to Hermione. Soon the whole group began listening as Hermione described how she had to bring in her assistant to deal with the owl’s broken leg while Hermione dealt with more owls and floo calls. The conversation soon shifted to how Aviary is liking working at the Ministry.  
“It’s already much better than training!” Aviary bubbled, smiling over at Ida, “I mean, I’ve only been working with Ida for one day and I already feel like I’m part of the team.”  
Harry silently approved Ida of her choice. Sure, Aviary was a lot more outwardly enthusiastic than Ida would ever be, but she was clearly up for the job and not afraid after what was surely a crazy first day of work. Glancing at Ida, he noticed the look of determination on her face. He knew her well enough to know this meant she was excited to work with Aviary as well.  
“I actually considered being a professional quidditch player before this,” Aviary continued, “But I think I made the right choice.”  
This immediately drew in the attention of Ginny, Angelina and Seamus who launched into a conversation about quidditch faster than a snitch moved across a pitch.  
“What position did you play?” Ginny asked excitedly.  
“I was a Keeper for Slytherin,” she answered proudly, “You and Angelina are actually two of my favorite players. But I do have to say I was partial to the Harpies. I’ve been a fan since I was little.”  
“Ha!” Ginny shouted, turning to Angelina. Ginny played for the Holyhead Harpies before she became the coach of the Cannons. As Angelina had always played for Puddlemere since she left Hogwarts, the two maintained a friendly rivalry over whose team was superior. And sometimes “friendly” was too kind of a term; both women were quite competitive.  
Angelina pulled a face at Ginny and countered, “Aviary only liked you more because you were on the Harpies! That proves nothing.”  
“Actually,” Aviary chimed in, “I like both of you for your skills…”  
“Yes,” Angelina said loudly, “Both of us!”  
“We’ll just have to wait and see whose team comes out on top, won’t we?” Ginny sneered, “And I wouldn’t bet on a team captained by the biggest wanker I have yet to meet.”  
“Ginny,” Harry warned, shooting a glance at Ida.  
Ida caught his eye and shook her head, “No worries, Harry. I agree with Ginny. My cousin is one giant wanker.”  
Ida’s cousin was the coach of Puddlemere United, a man named Aries Reyes. Harry had only met him a couple of times but he agreed with his wife and sister-in-law in saying the man was a wanker. Ida’s family came from a long line of wealthy pureblood Filipino wizards and unfortunately, the manager of Puddlemere United was eager to employ fellow purebloods. Angelina and Oliver were disgusted by the complete injustice of this employment and the incompetence of their coach. Both had been Puddlemere fans their whole life and worked hard to make sure the team stayed away from any acts of bigotry and that they still managed to bring respect to the Puddlemere name. This wasn’t that hard, considering the fact Reyes didn’t bother to show up to half of the practices and when he did, he made useless plays that Oliver changed without him noticing. That didn’t stop Angelina, Oliver, Ginny and much of the quidditch world from despising the entitlement and self-absorbance of the man.  
“None of this matters, anyway,” Angelina responded, “Because Oliver is the one actually making the plays. And, as I am sure George and Harry would corroborate, Oliver is a fantastic captain.”  
Before Harry had to dive into this discussion, Seamus spoke, “Both Oliver and Ginny are the best coaches/captains this league has to offer,” he paused for emphasis, “Which is why I, personally, am beyond excited for the upcoming championship match!”  
Seamus worked in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and was, as a result, very informed on every quidditch event that happened in the United Kingdom. The Cannons and Puddlemere were currently the top teams in the league; it was looking as though they would play each other in the annual UK/Ireland quidditch championship.  
“Nev and I are beyond excited for the match!” Hannah chimed in, “Quidditch has been more popular than ever this year. I have to ask, Seamus, how on earth your department is handling the set-up?”  
Seamus looked thrilled at this question, “Oh, it has been complete chaos! But we wouldn’t have it any other way! I’ve been put in charge of permits which, trust me, is hell on earth. Blaise has been working around the clock to secure a solid venue…”  
Harry’s attention was drawn away from Seamus as Ginny choked on the mead she was drinking. He gave her a curious look but she averted his gaze. Harry turns back to the conversation at hand as Ron inquires,  
“How is Zabini as the department head? He always seemed like an entitled prat to me, but Kingsley appears to be rather fond of him.”  
“Zabini’s great!” Seamus said enthusiastically, “He’s a fantastic department head! And he really is nothing like what he seemed at Hogwarts. He’s funny, hardworking and well, bloody brilliant.” Seamus paused, then looked around the room to make sure he had everyone’s attention. Dean rolled his eyes and said with exasperation,  
“Seamus, if you want to tell them about the little Sports and Games gossip chain then just do it. No need to draw it out.”  
Seamus sent Dean a half-hearted glare as Parvati exclaimed, “What gossip chain? I’ve been missing out on Ministry gossip for years. The Department of Magical Transportation has next to nothing interesting going on.”  
Padma rolled her eyes at her sister while Lavender told her girlfriend,“Get a grip, Parv. Even if you have a crush on Blaise, you’re stuck with me.”  
Padma laughed loudly at this, to which Parvati turned to her sister and snapped, “You think he’s cute, too!”. To her wife, she responded, “Blaise’s attractiveness has nothing to do with this! I am allowed to be curious about what Seamus has to say.”  
“Well, anyway,” Seamus interrupted, as Padma looked like she was about to come back with a retort for what Parvati claimed, “My gossip is about Blaise, and it’s good. Apparently, Terry Boot believes Malfoy and Blaise shagged while they were still at Hogwarts!”  
Harry dropped the glass he was holding; it landed with a loud crash against the floor before anyone could stop it with their wands. Hermione reflexively cleaned up his mess with her wand as the people around the room expressed shock at the new information, although not as much as Harry had.  
Before Harry could stop himself, he blurted, “Surely that isn’t true? I mean, Malfoy can’t be gay, or bisexual, or whatever?”  
Ginny was looking at him strangely but Harry didn’t care. There was just no way that bit of information was anything but a rumor. Harry knew Malfoy well enough to know he wasn’t gay. He was a happily married man in a heterosexual relationship. Shagging Blaise Zabini was off the table.  
Seamus shrugged, “Honestly Harry, I don’t know. They are just rumors, and while Boot has his moments, he’s not always the most trusty source of information,” Seamus stopped to think, then said, “But it wouldn’t be that surprising, now would it? I mean, about half of our year ended up being queer. There’s me, Dean, Lavender, Parv, Nev, Blaise... Malfoy wouldn’t exactly be a shock.”  
“So Blaise is gay!” Harry said, shocked.  
“No, he’s bi,” Ginny answered quickly. Harry gave her a look that clearly questioned how she knew that, and she continued, “He’s head of Games and Sports. He’s been at many of the Cannons events. You get to know a guy at those things.”  
Harry nodded, then said, “But Malfoy’s different. He’s just… well… he’s straight!”  
“Once again, Harry, we can never know unless he tells us himself,” Seamus said, looking a little taken aback by Harry’s insistence.  
Harry went to prove his point once more, but stopped at the weird look on Ginny’s face. He supposed he was being a bit overbearing with his indignation about Malfoy’s sexual preference, so he stopped and let the conversation shift from office gossip to Neville’s latest customers at his greenhouse. Despite the hilarity of the customer that managed to drop a large bag of marbles on the floor of the store and trip over them multiple times, Harry doesn’t find himself to be enjoying the evening anymore. Although he knows that Malfoy couldn’t possibly be anything but straight, he finds his mind is awfully fixated on the what-if for reasons that defy all logic.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry woke up and slowly opened his eyes. He could tell by the light streaming in through the window he needed to get up. He ran his hand along his side table until he found his glasses and placed them over his eyes. Harry blinked slowly as he adjusted to the room around him, half alight in the morning glow of the sun. He instinctively rolled over on his side to greet Ginny, hopefully to ease some of the memories that were quickly resurfacing form last night by talking to her before she had to leave for work. To his dismay but not necessarily surprise, Ginny’s side of the bed was empty and her pajamas were tossed carelessly on top of her pillow, suggesting she had gotten dressed and left the room. The absence of Ginny when he woke up was becoming a regular occurrence. When they first moved in together, both Ginny and Harry made it a habit to wait in bed for the other person to wake up. Ginny had started the tradition; she had once told Harry “nothing was better to wake up to than the person you love.” Harry had grown to love the tradition. It was reassuring to wake up with Ginny’s face peering at him or vice versa. Even on days when one of them needed to wake up early, the other was up with them. If he and Ginny were still following this unspoken rule, Ginny would have woken Harry up around 7:00 when she started getting ready for today’s practice. Harry slept like a rock; any alarm he had set in the past ten years of marriage didn’t come close to waking him, and he had tried everything (I mean, he had magic at his disposal. His unsuccessful attempts at an effective alarm weren’t without merit). But the fact that Ginny hadn’t woken up next to him in well over a week’s time made Harry feel unsettled. He knew she had her team and the kids to attend to, but Harry wanted to be a part of those things desperately. He had never wanted Ginny to feel as though the kids were anything but a joint responsibility. He knew Ginny knew this. Harry had been at her side for early morning chaos for longer than he could remember. However, lately, it was if Ginny took no qualms in handling it all by herself. She wanted to wake up by herself, take care of the kids by herself. It made Harry feel lost as a husband and as a father. He wanted to be there for Ginny and to feel she wanted him to be there for her. And more than anything, he wanted, no needed, their once crucial early morning talks. Harry felt like his brain was exploding with the instability of the past weekend, and Ginny was the one he usually talked to when he felt this way.  
Harry had spent all of the past two days at the hospital, working tirelessly to aid the Healers in the recovery of Muggles from the mysterious potion used by the Imperius attackers. Another attack had happened at a sports shop in the Greater London area. The attack had occurred only two weeks after the attack at the muggle shop in Yorkshire. Harry had been immersed in the consequences fully, as the scope of the attack meant the entire faculty of St. Mungo’s was instructed to help, including the trainees. He spent the entire weekend following rapid orders from Healers. Five Muggles did not recover from the poison, and over one hundred were infected and brought into Mungos. After coming home last night, despite his all-consuming exhaustion, Harry had called Ron, Padma and Ida to find out how they were holding up and whether they were any closer on leads. Technically, Harry knew it was not a wise decision to be calling the department's top Aurors looking for information on an open case, but Harry was desperate. He felt a large amount of guilt. Harry had left the Auror department while the Imperius attacks were still underway. Even though it had seemed the attacks were ending, Harry should have known better. Things like this never just disappear. Harry was part of the team working to stop the attacks that threatened Muggles and Muggleborns alike. It was irresponsible of him to leave before the case was solved. He was leaving Ron, Padma, Ida and the rest of Aurors a near impossible and dangerous case. Although he had no doubt they were the best team to bring justice to the attacks, Harry still felt like leaving to become a Healer was a reckless decision.   
His brain was spinning with the sheer amount of things he was criticizing about his own life, and Harry knew that was unhealthy. He had left the Auror department so didn’t have to feel so unstable all the time. He needed to remember that. Taking a deep breath, he glanced around his room. He started to feel better as he looked at the pictures: James and Albus each holding one of Lily’s hands, swinging her between them. Ginny smiling with her arms around two of the members of her team. Ron, Harry and Hermione sitting in the backyard, caught in a bout of laughter. He laughed out loud when he saw one of the pictures had been covered completely by Ginny’s quidditch robes from yesterday. If Harry had thought he was messy, he was in for an unprecedented shock when he moved in with Ginny. Her complete lack of organization skills or a desire to organize anything was one of the things Harry loved about her. She was unapologetically chaotic in her nature. These, he told himself, are reasons his life was on track.   
“Dad!” The loud yell from outside of his door took Harry out of his deep revoir of thoughts. Despite the abruptness of the address, James knocked on the door of the room.   
“Come in!” he called, sitting up in bed.  
The door opened and James appeared in the door. Harry couldn’t help but smile at his son’s morning hair. It was so reminiscent of Harry’s in its absolute refusal to stay in any singular direction. While James may have inherited Harry’s hair, his face was all Ginny’s. Everything from his bright blue eyes to rounded face suggested his mother.   
“Good morning!” James said brightly, walking over to Harry and sitting on the edge of the bed near his feet.  
Harry reached over to ruffle his hair. He was relieved James would still let him do this, he had been anticipating the day James ducked away and gave him an embarrassed look for a long time.   
“Good morning, James,” Harry said, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”  
“Mum wanted me to tell you that she left for work early. Apparently Brent Buckley injured his arm and Mum doesn’t know whether or not he can play for the remainder of the season. Albus said that’s bloody good luck because Buckley is a prick and I agree, but Mum was upset,” James reported.  
“Was there no time for her to tell me this?” Harry asked absentmindedly, knowing that’s not the takeaway of what James is saying but feeling slightly upset at the fact Ginny left without bothering to say goodbye herself.   
“No, not exactly. She was on the phone for a while with someone she said is a “bloody wanker”, which I can only assume is that coach of Angelina’s team,” James replied.  
Harry tried not to look visibly angry at this. He attempted to console himself by thinking Ginny was probably in such a bad mood after talking to coach Reyes that she didn’t think of the fact Harry would want to have a goodbye from her, especially because she wouldn’t be back until late tonight due to another team bar night.  
“It was probably coach Reyes,” Harry agreed, “Hey, since when do you guys throw around the terms ‘wanker’ and ‘prick’ like their reasonable vocabulary choices for children under ten?”  
James rolled his, “We aren’t toddlers, Dad. And anyway, you can’t expect us not to use those words when Mum calls someone a ‘wanker’ at least twice a day.”  
Not knowing how to argue with that, Harry said, “I’ll be down in a minute. Is Lily fine?”  
Laughing, James nodded, “Al says he’s got it. Which could mean Lily’s on fire or something worse, but we have to hope for the best,” he got up and started heading for the door. He paused in the doorway and turned around and continued, “And I’ll make sure Al doesn’t call Lily a wanker if that makes you feel better.”  
Harry pulled a face at his son and watched as he left the room laughing. The kid had Ginny’s sense of humor through and through.   
\----  
Harry walked into the Healer training room today with excitement. Despite his lingering exhaustion from the days before, Harry knew he would feel better once he was at St. Mungos with concrete directions to follow and a sense of purpose. No, he wasn’t a Healer yet, but he was working towards that and was aiding Healers on the way. He could feel purposeful knowing that.   
Brayan was already at the front of the room. He beamed at Harry when he walked in and waved him towards his desk. Harry walked with only some hesitancy towards the desk; Harry wanted to seem eager to follow any directions given to him by his supervisor, but he didn’t like to feel the silent judgement from the rest of the trainees who already assumed much of his success in the program came from his fame.   
Brayan pointed at a newspaper clipping on his desk when Harry approached, He loudly whispered to Harry, as the room had fallen silent, “Look at this, Harry! Second page with a large quote from yours truly! You should be proud.”  
Sure enough, the newspaper on Brayan’s desk was of the interview Harry had done with Malfoy two weeks prior. To his surprise, the picture above the article wasn’t the usual cheesy affair that Harry associated with fuller Prophet articles. The picture had been taken of Harry smiling on his first day of training. He looked eager and happy, and not in an over exaggerated way. It had been taken by Hermione and Harry had submitted it to the Prophet, but he had been doubtful Malfoy would opt for the nice and put-together picture of him when he could only imagine how many pictures Brayan had submitted of he and Harry where Harry either looked exhausted or like he was overtly faking his smile. Apparently Malfoy wanted to give his article a level of sophistication, and Harry appreciated that.  
“Thank you, sir. It’s really been all my pleasure, getting to work under you and all.” Harry knew he was sounding like a bit of a teacher’s pet, but he had learned from the best. Hermione had always won the support and admiration of all of her professors, so it wouldn’t hurt for Harry to play into Brayan’s clear excitement for him.   
Brayan told Harry to tell him if any more interviewers came around, as he had plenty more to say, and then gestured for Harry to sit down. Harry tried his best to ignore the not so subtle glare from a raven-haired girl he believed was named Sally as he passed her to get to his chair and take a seat. The young man next to him, whose name was Caser, whispered to Harry, “I liked your article. That’s exactly how I feel about healing, too. It’s the perfect job for someone who loves to help people but needs a break from the Dark Arts.”  
Harry was surprised by Caser’s statement until he remembered Caser’s mother had died in the war at the hands of one of the Death Eaters. Feeling empathetic, Harry nodded and whispered back, “Thanks, Caser. I’m glad you’ve found as much joy in healing so far as I have.”  
From the front of the room, Brayan said, “Now Potter, I know you are having a big day with the article release. But I can’t grant you a free pass to talk in my morning briefing, no matter how much you’ve earned it!”  
Harry apologized and fell silent, trying his best to keep the rapid blush forming on his cheeks from spreading. Caser shot him an apologetic look as Harry attempted to listen to Brayan. The attempt was futile, as Harry was having a hard time blocking out the stares from around the room. Being once again in a school type setting brought Harry back to his days at Hogwarts where he tried desperately to escape special treatment so he could just feel normal and as if he had earned everything he worked for. Thankfully, he had had many professors then that had treated him just like any other student, from McGonagall to Flitwick to even Snape. At the hospital, however, Harry found that Brayan had become less and less impartial to him ever since he discovered how useful he was for bringing fame and recognition to others. Harry could only hope some of Brayan’s admiration came from his abilities and not just who he was.   
“...Potter and Warbock,” at the sound of his name, Harry broke out of his daze and turned his attention to Brayan. As Brayan said another pair of names with an instruction, Harry realized he had missed what his assignment for today. Sighing, Harry began to doubt even more that Brayan admired his abilities.   
\---  
Harry made his way into the canteen with a couple of his fellow trainees for his lunch break. The morning had been only slightly less chaotic than the past weekend. The Healers were still working endlessly to ensure no more of the Muggle patients died from the mysterious poison they had all been contaminated with. As far as Harry knew, none of the Healers were any closer to finding out what the poison was and why it acted so horrendously among the patients but killed a relatively low amount of them. Harry made a mental note to search through Hermione’s large and ever-growing collection of books when he was next at her house. If anyone could have an answer to this, it was Hermione and her books.   
Harry made his way to the line of Healers and trainees waiting for food and accio-ed a tray into his hands. He was feeling light headed with hunger, as he was now fairly sure he hadn’t eaten a single thing since late Saturday night. Sometimes when he was stressed or preoccupied he found himself reverting to his time at Number Four Privet Drive, where stress, loneliness and hunger had always been intertwined. The smell of Mungo’s famous chicken pot pie was weaving its way through the line and was definitely not helping his sudden burst of hunger.  
As he reached the cook serving the pot pies, he gave his best smile and politely asked the witch if he could perhaps have two pies instead of one. The witch, whose name was Lacey, was one of the kindest people Harry had ever met. Harry had taken to talking to her oftentimes at the end of his lunch break when he finished with his food and the rush had died down.   
“Of course, Harry dear,” Lacey said, returning his smile, “Just don’t go telling all the other trainees. They wouldn’t leave me alone until I gave them another pot pie.”  
“You are the best, Lace,” Harry thanked as he watched the two precious pies land onto his tray with a quick flick of Lacey’s wand, “I owe you one. I’ll see if I can get Molly to give up her ruddy shepherd's pie recipe.”  
Lacey laughed and shook her head, “We both know that is not happening. From what I’ve heard of Molly from you, she wouldn’t give up her recipes for a million galleons.”  
“But I would try for you,” Harry promised as he moved down the line, realizing that his fellow Healers were not eager to wait for Harry to chat with Lacey while they were hungry and on a time crunch.  
Lacey gave him a wave over the heads of numerous Healers as Harry made his way out of line and looked hopefully for Dean’s face among the crowd. Being significantly older than his fellow trainees, Harry had yet to make a lasting connection with any of them that correlated to sharing a meal in the canteen. He had taken to eating lunch with Dean and his friends, but it was hard to anticipate when and if Dean had a break. Although Dean worked on the Fourth Floor in the Janus Thickey Ward, Harry knew he had been on call due to the long-lasting inflictions of the poison the Muggles had been infected with. The Janus Thickey Ward dealt with long-term patients that had suffered curses and spells that left irreversible damage, so Dean and his co-workers knew how to alleviate long-lasting effects. To Harry’s pleasant surprise, he spotted Dean with some of the fellow JT Ward workers, laughing over his own chicken pot pie.   
Dean noticed him as Harry made his way over, “Oi, Potter!” he said, gesturing to a seat next to him, “Come sit down!”  
As Harry lowered himself into the empty chair beside Dean and said hello to the other Healers at the table, he looked over at Dean and noticed the exhaustion in his eyes and face. Despite his cheery attitude, Harry could easily see Dean was beyond tired and stressed. But Dean had never been one to complain. He adored his job and always told Harry he “considered himself beyond lucky to have such a miraculous family and job.” Harry admired Dean’s complete satisfaction in his life and wished he could say the same with the level of confidence Dean had.   
“How’s it coming along?” Harry asked.  
Dean’s smile fell a little as he answered, “As good as it can when we have no idea what’s poisoning these poor Muggles. It’s something dark, that’s all we know.”  
The Healer who was sitting across from Harry (he thought her name was Mary) sent Dean a quick look and he stopped talking about the attacks. Harry knew that the Third and Fourth floors were most likely under strict secrecy to the findings on the mysterious attacks, so he opted to stop pushing for answers. He would know soon enough if either the Aurors or healers figured out what the poison was.   
Harry tucked into his first pie and sighed softly at the explosion of flavors. Dean laughed at him as Harry took another ravish bite but Harry didn’t care.  
“The cooks sure know what they are doing,” he said. He followed this statement with another large bite of pie.  
Maybe Mary sent him a haughty look, but Dean was agreeing with him earnestly. Harry and Dean began talking about how Seamus had taken to staying up all night trying to predict what team would win the UK tournament (Harry was learning Seamus had quite the brain for statistics) when Harry spotted a familiar head of blonde hair across the canteen. Sue enough, as the man sporting the blonde hair turned to his side, Harry saw the unmistakable profile of Draco Malfoy standing near conference room B and looking up at the menu options flashing magically across the front of the food line in midair.   
Harry wondered what Malfoy was doing again in the hospital. He looked around for Astoria but didn’t see her anywhere in the canteen. Dean was now looking curiously at Harry.   
“Harry, what’re you…” he broke off as he spotted Malfoy, “Oh. What is he doing here? Did you have another interview with him?”  
Harry realized this must be the reason Malfoy was here; why else would he be waiting near a conference room?   
“I think so,” Harry answered. He took his last bite of pie and stood up, “I’ll go ‘n see what he wants.”  
“Good luck, mate,” Dean said, looking wearily at Malfoy, who was now pacing in front of the midair menu.  
Harry made his way across the canteen to Malfoy. He arrived at his side, fully expecting Malfoy to turn and acknowledge him. Harry hated to admit it, but Malfoy’s muggle style really fit him. He was wearing a long grey coat that was well suited to his smart black shoes and pants. Putting these observations out of his head, Harry cleared his throat in order to get Malfoy’s attention.  
Malfoy turned slightly and gave him a perfectly indifferent glance, before turning back to the menu and asking, “I’m a big pot pie fan but I’m reluctant to risk getting it at a hospital canteen. Is it any good?”  
Harry was more than surprised at the causal question. Hesitating, he inquired, “What does this have to do with my interview?”  
“Your interview?” Malfoy looked exasperated, “That was over two weeks ago. I published it yesterday, for goodness sake. Do you think you’re getting follow-up? This soon?”  
Annoyed at Malfoy’s rude answer, Harry snapped, “I thought you were here for me. You are standing outside the conference room, excuse me for thinking there was some problem with my interview!”  
“The only problem with your interview was the pointlessness of its existence,” Malfoy deadpanned, “And I’m here to write another article, that miraculously isn’t on you.”  
Trying to control his frustration, Harry said, “I don’t believe every article is on me, believe or not. And I only agreed to your article because I thought it would be better for me to give my own story before the Prophet came out with some wild version of me leaving the Ministry. They would have said I hate Ron or some insane rubbish like that.”  
Malfoy raised his eyebrows, “Now I’m starting to think you do hate Weasley. Should I write a story on that?”  
Harry gave a slight laugh, “If you would, throw in I think Hermione’s a wanker too. Might as well get the full truth out.”  
Harry saw a ghost of a smile appear on Malfoy’s face before he looked back determinedly at the menu and said, “So, pot pie or no?”  
Harry, resigning to the fact he was never going to have a normal conversation with Malfoy, answered, “The pot pie is amazing. Not getting it would be a crime against pot pie itself.”  
“Noted,” Malfoy said, walking towards the line without turning back.  
Harry watched him go, then walked back to the table feeling strangely unsettled.  
“So he wasn’t here for you?” Dean asked as Harry sat down next to him again.  
“Apparently not,” Harry mumbled, pressing his finger into a crumb on his plate.  
“Upset about that?” Dean inquired, glancing sideways at Harry.  
“Not at all!” Harry answered a bit too quickly, making Dean raise his eyebrows, “I just wish he was a bit politer about it, that’s all.”  
“I don’t think he’s as much of a prick as he was at school,” Dean claimed, “Blaise says he’s a “reformed spirit”, whatever that means.”  
“Since when is everyone best mates with Blaise Zabini?” Harry wondered half to himself and half to Dean.  
“I’m just saying,” Dean said, “People c…”  
“Change?” Harry finished, “Yeah, I’ve heard.”  
\---  
The next night Harry was lounging on the couch in his sitting room with one of Hermione’s books stretched across his lap. Harry went to Ron and Hermione’s after work the previous night and told Hermione his aspiration to help find out the poison, to which Hermione lent him any book in her library that looked like it could be of any help. The large stack was now sitting on the table beside him as he read through “Modern History of Potions” and sipped on a tea. Both Al and James were at Fleur and Bill’s house for the night, so only Harry, Lily and Ginny were left in the house. Ginny was in the next room at the kitchen table, helping Lily complete a small puzzle. Lily’s small cheers of excitement echoed around the house. Despite the comfort in this, Harry still felt on edge for multiple reasons: the gloomy weather that showed no signs of sunshine, the seemingly impossible task of finding anything helpful in the large pile books and the lingering sadness he felt all the time. Last night hadn’t made anything better. He had had one of his many recurring dreams that had been happening since the end of the war. Maybe it was because he had seen Malfoy yesterday, but he dreamed about the day he found Malfoy in the bathroom and used the Sectumsempra curse against him. After witnessing the death of numerous innocent people, Harry had felt immense guilt for almost killing Malfoy. Not that Malfoy had been guilt free; he had been trying to find a way to let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. And while Harry was far from forgiving him for any of the things he did, he understood that Malfoy had been in an impossible situation that did not warrant death. Harry shook himself and tried to continue reading. What he absolutely did not need now was a trip into his past.  
Harry was only a page further into his book when the fire in front of him began to speak.   
“Potter?” Harry looked up to see Healer Brayan’s face looking up at him.  
“Sir!” Harry exclaimed, “Eh… how are you?”  
“Quite well. I see you are doing some late night reading? What an honor student!” Brayan complemented.   
“Thanks sir,” Harry paused, then decided to add, “I’m actually reading up on what the poison could be that’s been used in all the attacks. Do you know if there have been any new ideas?”  
Brayan shook his head, sending a little flare streaking past Harry’s chair, “No. I would be one of the first to know, so there is a slim chance anything new has been uncovered. Now Harry,” he continued, giving Harry a slightly belittling look that caught him off guard; this was the look Brayan usually reserved for the less talented trainees, “I know you want to do everything you can to help out. But we have the most clever and well-accomplished staff of Healers at St. Mungos that are doing much more than looking through history books. While I admire your attempts, I would recommend you use your time more wisely and prep for your upcoming exam. You haven’t always been as accomplished at test taking than as you are at the practical parts of healing.”  
Harry stared at Brayan, his mouth slightly agape. He knew Brayan was wrong. Hermione had solved almost all of their problems at Hogwarts by looking tirelessly through books. For Brayan to tell Harry that trying to help find the poison was a complete waste of his time was both ignorant and suggested ill judgement as an instructor. Harry, realizing he had to answer despite his rising anger, said with little inflection in his words, “I will focus on my studies, sir. What else can I help you with?”  
“Yes, I’m here bearing great news! Healer Patrick wants to work with you personally over the next week! She has seen your hard work and diligence as a healer aid and wants to keep you for himself to see if you would ever be a good fit in his department,” Brayan beamed at him, any disappointment clearly gone.  
Harry’s mood shifted as he took in this news. Healer Patrick was the head Healer of the Second floor, which dealt with magical ailments and diseases. Although Harry had yet to decide what department he wanted to work in after he completed training, working on the second floor was definitely on the table.   
“That’s fantastic, sir!” Harry said, “When do I start?”  
“Next Monday. Once again, good work. You are a promising healer. Mr. Potter.”  
And with that, Harry said goodbye and Brayan disappeared out of his fireplace.   
“Who was that, Harry?” Ginny called from the next room.  
A thought formed in Harry’s head, and before he knew what he was doing, he answered, “Healer Brayan. He wants me to go back in for the next couple of hours and help Healer Patrick with the last of the Muggle patients.”  
“Really?” Ginny asked, appearing in the doorway, “Why would he ask for a trainee to come back so late at night?”  
Feeling slighted at her accusatory tone, Harry answered definitely, “I guess I’ve made a good impression. Patrick is the head of the second floor, so I am happy to take the opportunity.”  
“Of course,” Ginny replied, her voice tinted with a coldness that stung Harry, “Well, good luck. I hope it goes well.’  
Harry felt a pang of guilt as he wondered if Ginny was upset over the fact he was leaving so late or whether she knew he was lying. Either way, Harry decided he needed a night to himself. He hadn’t been to his favorite pub,The Leaky Cauldron (which had been redone in the past couple years and was nothing like the grimy place Harry had first encountered years ago on his first trip to Diagon Alley), in longer than he could remember. Harry reasoned with himself. He needed a night out to clear his head and remove himself from everything. Tomorrow night he would spend time with Ginny and the kids. After telling Ginny and Lily goodnight, he walked upstairs to appear as though he was going to change into his healer scrubs. Once in his room, he pulled out his wand and focused on the outside of the Leaky as he began to feel the air compressing around him…  
\---  
Harry was nursing a beer at the bar, watching the patrons around him mingle, laugh and dance. Maybe going to the bar alone wasn’t his brightest idea. Harry had never really gone alone in the past; Ron, Hermione and Ginny used to go out together all the time before they had kids. Without anyone to talk to, he was stuck with his own thoughts in a new atmosphere. He wasn’t even much of a drinker. He had been at the Leaky for almost an hour and he had just gotten about half way through his first beer. Sighing, Harry sat his beer down and wondered if he should just leave and go back home to Ginny and Lily. Harry reached into his pocket to grab a galleon when he felt a hand on his shoulder as someone lowered themselves into the empty chair next to him.  
“Just act like I’m supposed to be here,” the person muttered. Harry could recognize that drawling voice anywhere. He turned to his right to look into the face of Draco Malfoy. His hair, blonder than ever, was drooping across his piercing blue eyes. He gave Harry a bright smile that made his whole face light up and made Harry’s brain spiral into overdrive. Malfoy reached out and placed his hand on Harry’s arm and gave a chirpy laugh. What in the hell was going on?  
But before Harry could say anything, Malfoy glanced over his shoulder and dropped his grin moments later. Taking his hand off of Harry’s arm, he gave a brisk “thanks” and stood up to leave. Harry came to his senses enough to grab Malfoy’s elbow and question, “Where are you going? I need some kind of an explanation for whatever the ruddy hell that was.”  
Malfoy looked back at Harry and then down at his elbow, in which Harry abruptly dropped. He seemed reluctant, but he slowly sat back in the chair beside Harry and signed.  
“Pansy dragged me here tonight,” he stated, as if that explained everything.  
“And what, did she dare you to smile at me oddly and then leave? If so, I have to say it was a pretty subpar dare,” Harry commented, looking over at Malfoy.  
Malfoy gave a short laugh and shook his head, “She’s done nothing of the sorts. As you can see,” he gestured across the bar, “She’s a little too preoccupied to talk to me at the moment.”  
Harry looked and gave an audible gasp. Two girls who were dancing together in a way Harry had not done since his early twenties were none other than Pansy Parkinson and Sani Silver, one of the Auror trainees he had helped Savant and Ida interview the other day.   
“I didn’t know Pansy was gay!” Harry whispered loudly, turning away so he didn’t appear as if he was staring.  
Malfoy snorted, “Well, she’s pan, so I wouldn’t say “gay” is the correct label. But if you had any conversation with her in the last ten years, it would’ve been blindingly clear she is anything but straight.”  
“I don’t think every none straight person is gay,” Harry mumbled, “That just came out wrong. But, anyway, none of this explains why you came over to fake talk to me.”  
Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Isn’t it obvious, Potter? I needed an out from a particularly clingy bar-goer. He was starting to think we were going to be going home together and I was anything but interested.”  
Harry stared at him in confused shock (something he felt he was doing too often lately) and said, “He?”  
“”Yes, Potter. I fall into the far “gay” side of the spectrum, unlike my friend Pansy who will shag anything with a pulse,” Malfoy said nonchalantly.  
Harry felt as if the floor had fallen out beneath him. Did Malfoy just say he was gay? What about his wife? His kid? What was happening? Had the rumor Seamus heard been true?  
“But you are married!” Harry blurted.  
“No,” Malfoy said, slightly confused, “I thought you knew I got a divorce? Wasn’t it obvious before the interview?”  
“Oh!” Harry exclaimed, “Is that why you were so upset?”  
“No, not at all,” Malfoy shook his head and waved a bartender over to order a glass of Superior Red wine. Harry desperately tried to work out what was going on in his head as he waited for Malfoy to continue.  
After taking a sip, Malfoy said, “Astoria was picking up Scorpius to take him to her house for the week. I thought that seemed obvious?”  
Harry shook his head, “It was not obvious at all. I just thought she was taking Scorpius home after you had been watching him all day!”  
“Oh,” Malfoy shrugged and took a sip of his wine.  
Harry looked once again at Malfoy, who looked calm and indifferent to Harry’s internal panic.   
“Can I ask a question?” Harry needled.  
“I assume you’ll ask it anyway,” Malfoy deadpanned.  
“You seemed so happy around Astoria,” Harry said, taking a large gulp of his beer as he waited for Malfoy to say something.  
“That’s not a question,” Malfoy pointed out, but continued, “I still adore Astoria as a person. I’ll always love her, but just not in the way I need to in order to be her husband.”  
Harry nodded. That actually made a lot of sense. Not the Malfoy being gay part, but his reason for still having a great relationship with Astoria. He tried to think of what to say next, and thought of nothing. Finally, he settled on, “Well, good for you.”  
Malfoy snorted and replied, “You’re strange, Potter.” He leaned back in his chair as he turned sideways to look at Harry.  
Harry looked away quickly. He was prepared to end this conversation with Malfoy (it was quickly becoming more than he bargained for) but then he remembered another question he wanted an answer to.  
“So, why were you so mad during my interview?” he asked, glancing back on the blond man beside him.   
“That,” Malfoy declared, “Is a three drink Draco topic.”  
Harry hesitated, his mind racing. Then, before he could fully question what he was doing, he waved the bartender back over.  
“I’d like two more glasses of your Superior Red,” Harry said, pulling a galleon out of his pocket and placing it on the counter in front of him.   
As two more deep red filled glasses came sliding to a stop in front of Malfoy, he shot Harry an annoyed look but didn’t move as he took a small sip from the new glass of wine nearest to him.   
\---  
“There’s no way that’s true!” Harry laughed, slamming his beer down in front of him, “It’s just too perfect, I refuse to believe it.”  
“It is true!” Malfoy insisted, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to move the falling strands out of his eyes, “Astoria thought it would be a good way for me to get over my fear of them! And, trust me, it still surprises me how much I love the little guy.”  
“But a pet ferret! I never would have thought…” Harry trailed off as he fell into a fit of laughter again.  
Malfoy mocked offense, “I knew I shouldn’t have told you. But you asked about pets and I can’t not mention Murr but mention Roger. It wouldn’t be fair.”  
“Murr? That’s adorable!” Harry chuckled, “And the name “Roger” for a corgi puts our pet naming abilities to shame. Our lab’s name is ‘Padfoot’.”  
“Otter nonsense, there’s nothing fun about that!” Malfoy joked. Harry was about to tell him about how he got the name from Sirius, but paused. Their conversation was light and friendly and Harry wasn’t ready to ruin that. Not when Malfoy had almost finished his third drink.  
“Not to mention your kid naming skills,” Malfoy continued, “No originality whatsoever. How Weasley put up with that, I have no idea.”  
“I gave my children names to honor people I’ve lost! Surely that trumps my lack of originality,” Harry said indignantly.  
“I respect that, I really do. But it kinda seems as though you gave up after looking at one page of a name book,” Malfoy said.  
“Your kid is named ‘Scorpius’! So don’t be going all high and mighty on me. You probably just looked at an astronomical chart and picked the first name that you saw!” Harry retorted.  
Malfoy’s mouth fell open, “What’s the matter with Scorpius? Tori and I spent forever deciding upon it, for your information!” He took an angry swig of his glass and finished off his wine.  
Harry laughed and pointed at the glass, “I’m saved from answering by the three-drink rule. It’s time for you to tell me what made my interview with you a living hell.”  
“Fuck,” Malfoy mumbled, looking down accusingly at his empty glass, “I forgot about that. I wasn’t going to finish the last of that glass.”  
“Well, it’s too late now,” Harry announced, turning towards Malfoy and looking at him expectantly.  
“I didn’t sign some kind of binding contract, now did I?” Malfoy pointed out, signaling the bartender once again for another glass of wine.  
Harry rolled his eyes, “I should have asked for an Unbreakable Vow, perhaps.”  
Malfoy winced slightly at this and sighed.  
“Fine,” he resigned, reaching out for his new glass of wine and taking a long sip, “But I want it to be noted I’d much rather talk about my pet ferret than the shambles of my career.”  
“Shambles?” Harry inquired, “I read your article, and you're a bloody good reporter. Why would your career be in shambles?”  
Something flickered across Malfoy’s face, that he recognized as what may have been gratefulness at Harry’s compliment.  
“Well, my boss doesn’t always think so,” he said sullenly, “I was working on an important case for a long time. The Prophet, while still filled to the brim with pointless stories, has been working hard to gain a reputation of being able to tackle serious, hard-hitting issues in an effective and meaningful way. I was intentionally hired as an investigative reporter. Many times I’ve worked in ways similar to the Aurors to find out information about people.”  
“So what happened?” Harry asked, now highly intrigued in what derailed Malfoy’s investigative career. Now that Harry thought about it, Malfoy had written many of the articles the Prophet received praise for for being above the superficial and altered stories that had once defined it. Although Harry had never worked with Malfoy when he was an Auror, he now recalled some of his colleagues working with Malfoy to see what he had uncovered. Hannah Abbot had gotten useful information about a drug ring from Malfoy. At the time, Harry thought it was easier to blame the eventual spell damage Hannah suffered from due to the fact she went into the place Malfoy thought held the drug ring alone. Harry now realized that Malfoy had given Hannah crucial information that no one really took seriously due to his past reputation. He felt a sudden pang of guilt at this realization. Maybe doubts like his and Hannah’s was what was costing Malofy his job now.   
“The case I was given wasn’t a typical article. I had to convince my boss the importance of it, although I’m sure he still believes what I’m investigating is all rumors,” Malfoy paused, as a brief anger passed over his face, “He doesn’t realize the dangers that could be involved if no one acts. Not even the Aurors are taking it seriously, not with the recent attacks to focus on. This is the reason I started working as a reporter. I want to make an actual difference in people’s lives through the power of printed words. But I’ve had too little results for too long. The Prophet has told me to stop working on the important case and has resorted to only giving me fluff pieces, like the one about your career change and the history of the wolfsbane article I started yesterday at St. Mungos. That’s the reason I was so irritable during the interview. It was unprofessional on my part, but I was at my breaking point with the rubbish the Prophet was leaving me with.”  
“My article was rubbish, eh?” Harry joked, trying to diffuse Malfoy’s clear tension.  
“You know what I mean,” Malfoy sighed, “It wasn’t exactly ground-breaking, revolutionizing news.”  
Harry laughed, “I agree. All the articles on me are pointless now. My life has become quite mundane,” he paused to look at Malfoy, “I understand where your frustration is coming from, and I don’t blame you for being upset.”  
Malfoy nodded, looking half tipsy and half thoroughly pissed off. He took another long swing of his wine and swore, “Fuckin’ Prophet. I’m so much more than just a pretty face.”  
Harry couldn't help it; he let out a loud giggle at this. Malfoy leered at him for a moment, then broke out into a small laugh that grew as Harry continued to laugh. Soon, they were both laughing uncontrollably, and only stopped when the bartender shot them an annoyed look. Malfoy took a breath to control his laughter, then turned to Harry,   
“Are you happy now? You got the full confessional and emotional breakdown of three drink Draco.”  
Harry caught his breath and shook his head, “I still have no idea what the very important life altering case is about. I feel like that’s a key detail to leave out of your rant.”  
Malfoy froze as an angry look flashed across his sharp features, “That’s not your business,” he snapped, trying to keep his voice even but failing due to the large amount of alcohol he had consumed.  
“You don’t have to tell me. But you don’t have to close up and act like you did during the interview. I’m only curious,” Harry countered, looking directly at Malfoy.  
Malfoy looked like he was considering standing up and leaving, but he stopped and looked right back at Harry.  
“You’re right,” he sighed, running a hand anxiously through his hair, “You’ve done nothing but listen kindly. I’ve worked hard to not resort to waspish and cold tactics when I’m upset, and I can’t revert back now that I’m at a low.”  
Harry was, for about the hundredth time that night, shocked at Malfoy’s change in attitude. Before he knew what was happening, Malfoy had began to speak again,   
“I’m beyond drunk so I’m going to regret saying any of this to you. But I’m going to, because I have no one else to talk to and I’m fed up. And fucking angry,” he hesitated and looked around, then leaned in close to Harry. He could smell a strong scent of vanilla and what he thought was coconut.   
“There’s a rumor that an organization named Kareach exists. From what I’ve learned, it’s a new form of Voldemort’s ideology in a cult-like setting run by a pair of leaders. I have multiple sources that confirm the organization will do anything to rid the wizard world of muggleborns and potentially muggles. However, next to no concrete proof exists that the organization exists and that it is a threat to our society. But I know, Potter. I know enough about the dark arts and ignorant ideology to recognize signs. To recognize the perfect secrecy, the oblivating of individuals I’ve talked to, the sudden and mysterious deaths of purebloods. And,” he leaned in closer now to whisper, “I think Kareach is behind the attacks in Diagon Alley and on muggle shops. It all makes perfect sense. What else could pull off such a wide scale and unsolvable attack on muggles and muggleborns? But nobody, not even the Aurors, take the rumors seriously. It was a miracle I even got permission to attempt to do an investigative report on them. My lack of results has only seemed to reassure the Ministry and Prophet that Kareach is a nonexistent threat. None of that matters, really. I’m not going to give up. I can’t give up.”  
Malfoy finished talking, a bit breathless, and grabbed his glass to quickly drain the dregs of his wine. He looked fierce, determined. Harry had never thought Malfoy was capable of working so hard at anything that didn’t directly benefit himself. He seemed to care an immense amount about finishing his report and working to stop the attacks. Harry didn’t know how to process this new, moral abiding Malfoy.   
“You cannot say a word, Potter,” Malfoy looked up weakly at him, “I could be fired. And as much as I hate my job at the moment, I would hate being fired more.”  
“I would never,” Harry whispered, looking into bright blue eyes.  
Malfoy looked back at him, a mix of emotions swelling across his face. He looked angry and sullen, but almost excited at having shared his frustration. Harry thought he was going to say something else, but a dark look suddenly consumed Malfoy’s face and he jumped out of his chair, “I need to find Pansy,” he slurred wearily, finally showing his true level of drunkenness.  
“Wait!” Harry insisted, but Malfoy was rushing across the bar, pushing his way through drunken couples to find his friend and escape Harry.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry muttered “nox” outside his bedroom door so as to not wake Ginny with the bright light of his wand as he entered. Unlike Harry, Ginny was the world’s lightest sleeper. The slightest sound or hint of light could wake her within seconds. Harry slowly opened the bedroom door, being careful not to open it too far as he knew the point where the door would let out a loud screech. He managed to enter and closed the door without a sound and began to walk across the room to the bathroom when Ginny let out a loud cough.  
Freezing, Harry let loose a string of curses in his head as he turned to face Ginny. He knew full well he did not look like he had been at the hospital working for the past several hours. He was still in the t-shirt and worn out jeans he had been wearing before he left the house and he reeked of a smell that completely suggested he had been at a bar. He slowly turned to look at his wife, guilt building up like a brick lodged in his chest.   
To Harry’s surprise, she didn’t look angry. She looked perfectly calm, sitting up in bed with her arms wrapped around her knees.   
“I understand you’ve had a stressful last couple of days,” she said, “But you can’t just make up some excuse and sneak off to a bar. We could have planned a trip to the bar with Ron and Hermione if that’s what you needed.”  
Harry nodded, “You’re right,” he said softly. The memories of the night began to flash before his eyes. Malfoy saying he was gay. Malfoy talking about his pet ferret. Malfoy telling him about Kareach. Malfoy saying he was gay. Harry wouldn’t have found about any of that out if he had been with Ginny. He wouldn’t have felt free to let loose. But he also wouldn’t feel as he did now; angry at Malfoy for leaving so abruptly, confused on whether or not they were on good terms.   
Ginny knew him well enough to know he had gone into a thought spiral. She stood up and walked over to his side, peering into his eyes.  
“Harry, what’s going on?” She whispered, eyes alight with a concern she hadn’t given Harry in a long time.   
He looked at his wife, the woman he loved and adored. The woman who he was raising three amazing kids with. Harry was a jumble of emotions and endless thought cycles. He couldn’t go on like this forever. The tears started before he could control them, running down his face messily and making Ginny wrap him in a fierce and protective hug.   
“Things can be better, Harry,” she soothed, running her hand along the back of his head, “Whatever you are feeling, I am there for you. I will always love you, no matter what.”  
Her voice cracked at this last part. Ginny’s words echoed in his head. She will always love him. He loved her, too. He really, really did. She was funny, smart and generous. She was everything he could want in a person. She was his best friend.  
“I love you too, Ginny.”  
\---  
The rest of the week passed in a blurr. Harry had spent every evening in with his family now that the aftermath of the latest attack had subsided. No more muggles were in danger of dying, so the entirety of St. Mungos had become more relaxed and orderly. Harry and Ginny talked, and Harry agreed to try muggle therapy in order to help control the sudden bouts of sadness he felt. His first session was the following week. The possibility of some improvement in his own life put him in a much better mood and allowed him to focus on his excitement for his training with Healer Patrick during the entire week. Drinks with Bill, Fleur, Angelina and George on Saturday night distracted him enough to even make him stop thinking about the Malfoy pub adventure from a few days before. Sure, Harry was interested in what Malfoy could uncover with his investigation. He believed Kareach could be a legitimate problem. The way Malfoy talked about it with such determination made Harry believe he had solid reasons to relate a new rumored organization to that of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. But there was nothing Harry could do about that. Malfoy clearly had only told Harry anything because he was drunk and lonely. He had even told Harry that himself. Harry needed to stick to his own books and move on from whatever the night at the Leaky had been.  
With this new outlook in mind, Harry apparated into the ground floor of the hospital Monday morning feeling positive about the day and excited about the opportunities Healer Patrick could open up for him. He took the lift to the fifth floor and walked across the canteen to the conference room the trainees met in. The meeting went better than usual. Caser and another trainee named Hedra who he had been getting along with sat on each side of Harry and swapped stories of their craziest experiences in the last week while they waited for Healer Brayan to begin. The only bad part was when Brayan gave instructions for the day and numerous trainees glowered at him for getting the week with Patrick. This was quickly made up for by the icey retort Caser made when a particularly unpleasant bloke called him a “pretentious suck-up” in which Caser told him to “stop putting Harry down, you’re only jealous of how much better he is at healing”. All in all, the day was looking brighter and brighter as he made his way to the second floor and walked down a hallway to Healer Patrick’s office. He gave the door a sharp rapt with his knuckles and waited for an answer (Dean had told Harry that Patrick moved at a quick pace and appreciated efficiency in interactions).   
The door flung open to reveal Healer Patrick, a sharp looking witch wearing maroon Healer’s robes. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bun reminiscent of Minerva McGonagalls; not a single hair out of place. She had a pointed face that reminded him of Malfoy’s. At the sight of Harry, she pointed her wand backwards towards a large pile of papers and sent them flying towards Harry’s arms without looking. Harry thankfully had enough sense to place his arms out in front of him in order to catch them before they pelted him in his stomach.   
Healer Patrick moved swiftly past him and closed the door behind her with a wave of her wand. Harry quickly followed, having to take long strides to keep up with her urgency. She wasn’t even a particularly tall woman, but she walked at a pace faster than Harry thought possible without being considered a run. As they walked, she began to talk.   
“I am Healer Didodella Patrick, but you can refer to me exclusively as Healer Patrick. My first name is dreadful, do not use if if you want to continue to be my assistant,” she said this all without giving any indication she was moving at an above average pace, “I obviously wanted to work with you because I admired your talent and drive while attending to the muggle patients this past week. I also noticed you can work quickly with little error, which is crucial to the high stress environment of the hospital. So, you will do what I say, when I say it and without complaint. Do you understand?”  
“Yes, mam,” he said, still trying desperately to match Healer Patrick’s strides.  
“I’m not yet an old witch, Potter. I shall not be referred to as ‘mam’ until I feel it is right,” Patrick said swiftly, stopping abruptly in front of a door and walking in.  
“Of course, Healer Patrick,” Harry corrected, walking in behind her. The room had one bed in the center of the room where a patient lay with a book across his lap. The patient, without question, had Dragon Pox, a disease distinguished by the red bumps and greenish tint that occupied all of the victims skin. The man looked as if he was in his late twenties, early thirties. Despite his current ailment, Harry could tell the man was quite handsome. His tousled blond hair fell across his green face in waves, and his eyes were a deep brown that were intensely expressive. Due to the contagiousness of the disease, a large protective bubble had been spelled around the man. As Healer Patrick walked towards the young man, she spelled a bubble around her own head and gloves on her hands. She then told Harry to stand back as she removed the bubble.   
“Sorry about this,” the man winced with pain as he said this, but still managed to have a wide grin across his face, “I usually make a better first impression.”  
Harry smiled back; this man’s sense of humor immediately reminded of him of Fred and George's, who managed to make a joke out of everything, as they had always refused to believe laughter couldn’t solve anything.   
“Mr. Haffer,” Patrick spoke as she gestured to a large bottle behind her that Harry recognized as Gunhilda de Gorsemoor’s cure, the treatment for Dragon Pox, “I am highly certain you are the happiest patient I have ever seen with Dragon Pox in all my years at St. Mungos.”  
“Well, that’s hardly any, Ms. Patrick,” the patient flattered, “You look not a day older than twenty-five.”  
“Charming,” Patrick said, taking the bottle of cure from Harry and pouring it into a large cup on the table in front of her.   
“And please,” the patient continued, the ridiculous smile now back upon his face, “Do call me Seb. Mr. Haffer is my father, the git.”   
Patrick handed him the cure, “Here is the cure for today, Seb. Drink it all.”  
“I know the drill,” Seb said, looking wearily at the cup. Harry had learned about the painful treatment to Dragon Pox. The potion was exceptionally excruciating to consume. Harry knew someone as cheery as Seb wouldn’t even see a positive spin to having to drink the only treatment.   
Sure enough, after a long painful couple minutes, in which Seb screamed almost continuously in agony as he finished his cure, Harry was re-introduced to the normal Seb as he laid back against his pillow and let his smile break out across his face.   
“That was, once again, a full blown adventure,” he quipped, “Thank you, Healer Patrick.”  
“The Dragon Pox should be gone within the next couple of days. You shouldn’t have to endure the potion for much longer,” Patrick reassured briskly, carefully cleaning up the potion and reconstructing the bubble around Seb’s bed.   
“Cheers to that!” Seb exclaimed, holding up a glass of water to the air.  
Harry let out a laugh. He was starting to really like Seb.  
Healer Patrick said a goodbye to Seb and gestured for Harry to follow her outside into the hallway. But instead of speed walking down the hall to a new destination, she stopped right outside Seb’s door.  
“I have an interview to get to. A rather pointless one, at that, but I couldn’t let Healer Brayan get another day in the sun so I said I would do it,” she leaned in and muttered, “Harry, between you and me, Healer Brayan should not be in the position he is in here at St. Mungos. Do be careful,” as fast as she had said this, she pulled back and continued, “You will need to keep an eye on Mr. Haffer for the next hour or so. I will come and fetch you when I think it is safe for you to leave. Yesterday he had a near fatal episode from a negative reaction to the cure. It is not a full-proof cure. It’s rather poor, to be exact, but it’s all we got at the moment and it works almost all of the time. All I need you to do is watch over him and call for aid if he appears to have another attack. Now, I must go tell a reporter all I know on wolfsbane, a complete and good use of a Healer’s time,” she began to walk away at the end of this sentence, walking at her advanced speed towards the lift at the end of the hallway.  
“Wolfsbane?” Harry said aloud, realizing exactly who Healer Patrick had an interview with. Trying to ignore the fact Malfoy was once again in the building, he opened the door and walked into Seb’s room, where he resumed his reading of a book, which Harry now realized was ‘Quidditch Through the Ages’.   
Seb looked up as Harry entered, “Back to watch me, I suppose? I knew I would be getting a babysitter today.”  
“It’s only for your protection,” Harry reassured, sitting down in a chair a couple feet away from the edge of the bubble around Seb’s bed.  
“I’m not complaining,” Seb answered. Harry was beginning to think he never did just that, “I could use the company. A dull time it is, having Dragon Pox.”  
Harry laughed at this and pointed at the book still across Seb’s lab. “‘Quidditch Through the Ages’?” he asked, “That is perhaps still one of my favorite books to read. I used to read it all the time during the summer while I was missing Hogwarts.”  
“Better than me,” Seb said, “I didn’t read if I didn’t have to before I got into my twenties. The only thing I wanted to do was play quidditch. I was only a few years behind you, you know. Hufflepuff. Didn’t make the team until after you left, though. Wasn’t as good as I imagined in my head.”  
“No, we can never live up to what our minds envision,” Harry agreed, “What about now? Are you a quidditch player?”  
“Good heavens, no!” Seb exclaimed, “I really was never very good. I found a new passion, thankfully. I’m a magical non-human rights activist.”  
“That’s incredible!” Harry said, “Surely you know my friend, Hermione? She’s the head of International Magical Cooperation at the Ministry.”  
“Who doesn’t know the great Hermione Granger-Weasley?” Seb excitedly stated, “She’s incredible! We worked together to arrange the House Elf rights protest in England, France and Germany. She gave me a platform and I can’t thank her enough for that.”  
“Well, I can guarantee Hermione is just as grateful for you. She’s been passionate about the rights of all magical non-humans, especially house elves, ever since I’ve known her,” Harry said.  
As the conversation went on, Harry realized how fun his current assignment was. Seb was funny, smart and selfless, making Harry immediately like him. ‘If only everyone was this easy to talk to’ he thought as he and Seb dove into what was sure to be a lengthy topic of who would win the upcoming tournament, Puddlemere United or the Cannons.   
\--  
“Albus Severus Potter!” Harry yelled from the bottom of the stairs, “If you and Rose don’t get down here now, you’re not going!”  
“One more minute, Dad!” Albus called, causing Harry to roll his eyes in exasperation.   
“You’ve given him at least twenty ‘one more minutes’,” James informed him from his side. James was holding Lily who was squirming frantically in his grasp.   
“I can walk!” she insisted, whacking James across the arm.  
“Lily Luna, don’t hit,” Harry reprimanded. He looked up at James and sighed, “Just let her walk for now. There’s no use in carrying her if she’s going to fight you the entire time.”  
“Agreed,” James said, lowering Lily to his feet. She immediately took off in a mad dash towards the door.  
“Grab her,” Harry told James, who had already moved to stop his sister from escaping. Turning back towards the stairs, he yelled up at Albus once again, “We are leaving, Al!”  
“We’re coming!” Al screeched. Harry heard a door bang open and two pairs of feet rushing towards the landing. Harry let out a gasp as he saw what Rose and Al were carrying as they made their way down the stairs to where Harry was standing. They had what appeared to be none other than the family owl, Darren, in an enormous kite form. Harry could immediately recognize the white rims around their distinctive tawny owl’s eyes and the long streak of missing fur on his back from his old owner, who had trained him with physical abuse. Harry lost any feeling of anger he had at the two for taking an eternity to get ready. The kite was extraordinary, representing Darren in mid flight with a wingspan about the size of Harry himself (okay, probably taller, but Harry didn’t really want to admit that to himself). He was amazed at their level of detail and craftsmanship without any magic at their disposal.  
“Al, Rose,” Harry breathed, still taking in the magnificent replica, “It’s incredible! You got every single detail on Darren, down to his scar!”  
“We’ve been studying him,” Rose beamed, looking with admiration at the kite.  
“I suspect that Darren’s not overly fond of kite Darren, though,” Albus admitted, “He seemed to be glaring at us while we were making it.”  
“That’s because you looked at him in your room for weeks, you nutter. I couldn’t find him when I needed to send a letter to Teddy!” James paused, then continued, “But nevermind that. This kite is amazing! Can I fly it?”  
Harry laughed as Al said, “Of course! We all can. He’s the family kite we’re gonna use to blow the rest of neighborhood kids out of the water.”  
There was no doubt in Harry’s mind this kite would put any other kite in the tri-state area to shame. Harry took the kids to a park that was within walking distance of his house. The park usually consisted of primarily muggles, as Harry and Ginny didn’t live in a wizarding community, but a neighborhood with muggles and wizarding families alike. For example, Terry Boot and his family lived only two kilometers away. However, most of the families were muggles, which meant Harry’s kids had grown up with muggle traditions alongside wizarding ones. Lately, his kids, especially Al, had taken a liking to kite flying. It was only a matter of time before Rose and Al constructed the biggest and greatest kite they could create. Their style was to always go above and beyond on anything that involved creativity.   
“Let’s head out, then,” Harry walked to the door and held it open as Lily and James went through (Lily running as fast as her little legs could carry her, James trying desperately to keep her from tripping on the front steps). Rose and Al went through the door sideways, Rose leading the way while clutching gigantic Darren’s beak. Harry breathed in the fresh air and let his face break into a grin. It was going to be a long walk, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.  
He wasn’t bluffing; taking the kids to the park could be long and tiring, but Harry adored it. The trek had become customary when Harry didn’t have training and Ginny was stuck at practice for the day. Although he wouldn’t dislike having Ginny there, it was nice to have a tradition between him and his kids (and Rose, of course, but she was practically one of his own). He also needed a good distraction. His first therapy session had been yesterday, and Harry could tell it hadn’t been a good fit. He had tried to disguise much of his past, but he soon realized that it was impossible to talk about going through a war when the therapist had no idea one of the largest wars in England had occurred. He ended up talking about his “fist-fight” with Malfoy in the bathroom for much of the session because it had been his most recent dream. Harry realized that he didn’t want to make up alterations about his past every week to have the therapist talk non-stop about a single dream. And besides, Harry already felt happier. Perhaps all he needed was more time with his kids.  
The group walked for about fifteen minutes until they reached the park, a large green field in the center of the neighborhood equipped with a play set, swing set and football field. Lily took off towards the play structure immediately, the slide being her favorite. James gave his Dad a desperate look that told Harry he would rather go and fly the kite with Al and Rose than go on the play structure with Lily, so Harry took after his daughter. However, she only made it up the stairs and down the slide one time when she shrieked with delight. A young boy standing near her started at the sound and began to cry, causing his mom to send Harry a disapproving look. Harry was about to defend his daughter when she took off again towards Al, James and Rose, who were now flying kite Darren in all his winged glory. Harry followed Lily over to the group now surrounding Al, Rose and James, one eye on his daughter and his other on the kite. If he had thought the kite looked cool immobilized, he was hardly prepared for how amazing it looked in flight. It’s giant wings soared in the air, glistening in the late autumn sun. Months of kite flying had paid off; the kite was gliding effortlessly over the large crowd of bystanders. As Harry reached the circle, he scooped up Lily and put her on his shoulders so she could get a better look. They continued to watch as Al, Rose and James alternated turns with the owl and tried to outdo each other by getting the kite to do all sorts of flips and tricks. Eventually, the crowd thinned out as afternoon turned into evening. Harry and his kids showed no signs of going home. James was now helping Lily fly the kite towards where Al, Rose and Harry stood. Their once large crowd only consisted of two young girls, who Harry thought were there more for Al and James than the kite. James and Al, thankfully, seemed oblivious to this and were focused solely on the kite. All of a sudden, Harry heard an excited but unmistakable polite voice from behind him ask “Is that a northwestern tawney?”  
Harry turned around and started. Scorpius Malfoy was standing next to Rose and Al, eyes fixed on the kite as Lily attempted to guide it.   
“Yes!” Rose said enthusiastically, “How did you know? You can’t even see the top of him from here.”  
Scorpius beamed, “I know a lot about tawny owls. Well, owls in general. But tawneys are my favorite.”  
Harry began to look around for either Astoria or Malfoy, wondering who had taken Scorpius to the park.   
“Mine too!” Rose gestured towards the kite, “Do you wanna try after Lily is done?”  
“Yeah, would you?” Albus piped in, “We want to see if someone can get it to do three back flips in a row!”  
Scorpius laughed, “I can’t promise that, but I’ll surely try!”   
He grinned at Al and Rose and then looked over at Harry, noticing him for the first time.  
“Mr. Potter!” he exclaimed, “How are you?”   
“Great, Scorpius,” Harry didn’t see either of Scorpius’s parents anywhere, “Is your mum or dad here?”   
“My dad should be here in a minute,” Scorpius confirmed, trying to stay engaged in his conversation with Harry while simultaneously watching the kite with rapt interest, “He left his favorite scarf at home and had to apparate back to get it.”  
Harry internally began to panic; Malfoy, here? After their drunken conversation only a week ago, Harry had no idea where they stood. Malfoy had seemed to regret everything he told Harry about Kareach, so Harry wasn’t giddy to face the bloke again.  
He waited impatiently for Malfoy to show up as Lily finally made her way to Rose and Al and the two gave Scorpius a turn with the kite. Sorpius clearly could not have been happier. Harry was watching Scorpius trying to complete the triple back flip stunt when a familiar voice sounded at his shoulder.   
“My bloody luck strikes again,” Malfoy drawled, “Scorpius befriended every Potter and Weasley he could find.”  
“Oh, ha ha, Malfoy,” Harry said, turning to face him, “You should be thanking me, really. My kids are bloody fantastic.”  
Malfoy raised an eyebrow and turned to look at James and Al, who were now fighting quite loudly over whether or not the triple back flip was possible, leading to Al grabbing James’s scarf and running away wildly.   
“Oi!” Harry shouted to his kids, “Al, give the scarf back right now or I’ll take the kite away!”  
Al obliged, glowering as he threw James’s scarf at him and encouraged Scorpius in another attempt to get a triple back flip as Rose rolled her eyes at the lot of them.  
“The best of influences,” Malfoy sneered, but Harry thankfully detected no malice in his voice. Instead, he just sounded tired and a bit defeated. Harry had a strong idea why.  
Harry thought about what Malfoy was trying to do. He wanted to essentially take down an entire organization of potentially Imperius attack starting nutters who hated nothing more than muggles, muggleborns and blood traitors. And as Harry looked at Malfoy, he started to think Malfoy was definitely not a part of the pureblood status any longer. For starters, he was now investigating a group that was rumored to hold a Voldemort-esque ideology, something Harry believed Malfoy had full faith in until only a few weeks ago. But it was also the little things Malfoy did, from his distinctively muggle clothes (he was wearing a pale blue jumper and jeans today) to his muggle phone and trips to muggle parks. He was a major threat to the mysterious Kareach. Even if Kareach wasn’t real, Harry still couldn’t shake the feeling that Malfoy was on to something dangerous and nearly impossible. His unavoidable streak of heroism was returning; he couldn’t let Malfoy investigate Kareach alone.  
“Malfoy,” Harry burst, slowly turning to look at him.  
Malfoy looked alarmed at his sudden tone of urgency, as they had been standing in silence, “What is it, Potter?”  
“I work at the hospital,” Harry stated.  
“So?” Malfoy was giving Harry a rather concerned look, “Are you still drunk?”  
“I wasn’t drunk, you were,” Harry muttered. He regained his nerve and looked Malfoy in the eye, “I meant to say I have direct access to St. Mungos, where every single patient from the Imperius attacks goes. I also have resources you could never get to without my help. So,” he hesitated, trying to read Malfoy’s intentionally blank face, “I could help you. With your investigation.”  
Malfoy kept his face blank as he stared at Harry. Harry began to feel he made a dreadful mistake. There was no way Malfoy would want his help, he didn’t even want Harry to know about the investigation in the first place.   
Harry turned away, feeling ashamed, when Malfoy responded, “Potter, that might be just what I need,” he voice was soft and unsure, but there nonetheless, “But I can’t have you help me. I can’t put anyone else’s life at risk. You have a family, kids. It’s too much for me to ask of you.”  
“You didn’t ask it of me,” Harry said simply, “I asked it of you. And I understand the risk, I died once.”  
Malfoy let out a sudden snort to this. Harry saw something light up in his eyes. Here was the Malfoy he had seen briefly at the bar, the one who spoke of ferrets and Harry’s bad naming skills.  
“Can we even work together, civilly?” Malfoy asked, “I mean, we have an extensive history of mistrust.”  
Harry shrugged, “I can resist the urge to hex you more than once a day if you can.”  
“Well, at least I can still get at least one hex in per day. To keep me sane,” Malfoy said, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Are you sure, Potter?”  
“I’m always sure,” Harry said simply, starting as he realized Lily had fallen and scraped her knee on a sidewalk. As Harry rushed to her and used magic to carefully repair her wound, he realized that he meant it.   
\---  
At first Harry thought Malfoy was going to tell him he didn’t actually want Harry to help him with the investigation. Although he had said Harry could help, he had a hard time believing Malfoy meant it. But Malfoy’s since of justice and good reporting must of won over his hesitancy towards involving Harry, because the two soon fell into a regular pattern of meeting to talk about the investigation, everything from what Malfoy had found from trailing people he thought could be members (something that made Harry very nervous) and Harry telling Malfoy anything that went on in the hospital. They had taken to meeting two to three times a week, each meeting decided by Malfoy, who was perhaps the most organized person Harry had ever met. While Harry took messy and inconsistent notes, Malfoy wrote everything neat and tidy and kept binders upon binders of organized notes. The weekly meetings were quickly becoming a part of Harry’s life, as normal as going to training or the Burrow on Sunday.   
He had told Ginny he had been meeting regularly with a group of trainees to prepare for the finals of their first year of healer training. The tests were notoriously near impossible, so it made perfect sense that a group of trainees would take to preparing together. He thought Ginny believed him, as she showed no signs of doubting him as she had before. It could be because she was immersed in training for the Cannons as she prepared for the last few matches and ultimately the match against Puddlemere. The two teams still held the highest total scores in the region, so it was now looking certain that they would be playing each other (although it had seemed certain for a while, talk of who would be in the championship had been mainly assumptions until now). Last year the Cannons had lost to Puddlemere in the championship, so Harry knew how determined Ginny was to win, especially with Aries Reyes as a coach. The prick had already sent an owl to their house with an apology letter stating ‘Sorry for the humiliation the Cannons will have to endure in the upcoming match’. Ginny, obviously, had not taken the letter well and had retaliated with a note of her own that Harry would never wish to repeat himself. All in all, Ginny didn’t really seem to acknowledge that he was gone most of the time. Harry had been taking the kids to Molly’s frequently when Ginny was too busy to come home for the evenings. He felt bad about all of this: he knew he shouldn’t be lying to both Ginny and Molly about where he was during weeknights and the afternoons of weekends (Molly also thought he was in a trainee study group), but Harry didn’t know how they would respond. Although Ginny was apparently friendly with Blaise, who was still a good friend of Malfoy’s, he knew she still didn’t think highly of Malfoy. Only last week she had called their rude neighbor a ‘Malfoy type’, to which Harry had almost choked on the soup he was eating. He also knew Ginny would want to know all about the investigation, and Harry didn’t want to have to explain the potential danger he was putting himself in aiding Malfoy. The more he learned about Malfoy’s investigation, the more he began to think Kareach was real. The risk could be impending, and he didn’t want Ginny to think he was risking his family or herself to help someone she still thought of as an enemy. To add to all of this, Harry hadn’t told Ginny he had stopped therapy (he was pretending some of his meetings with Malfoy were therapy sessions). He had planned to tell her, but then thought it would mean so much to her to know he was finding a way to work through his issues. He thought it best for Ginny right now if she thought his own life was turning around.   
So when Ginny asked him over breakfast a few weeks into his meetings with Malfoy how therapy was going, he told her about how he was starting to feel much better. This wasn’t a total lie; some days he felt brighter, purposeful. But then there were others when he felt weighed down by sadness and then confusion over his own sadness.  
“That’s great, Harry,” Ginny said as she shoved half a piece of toast into her mouth and reached over to pull Lily away from Al, as she had been about to swat him with her own piece of toast.  
“What’s therapy?” Albus asked as he grinned at Lily and flung a bit of scrambled eggs on her plate using his fork.   
“Al, don’t retaliate,” Ginny said firmly, as Harry said, “It’s a meeting where I go and talk to a nice person who helps me talk through any problems I have.”  
“That sounds nice,” Al said thoughtfully, using his fork now to eat his eggs, “I would like some therapy.”  
“Wouldn’t we all,” Ginny mumbled. She had finished her toast and eggs at rapid speed and was now gathering up her quidditch gear that was spread across the counter.   
“I wouldn’t,” James piped in, “I’m pretty problem free.”  
Harry let out a laugh at this. James had a point; Harry had never met a kid more at ease with who he was. James was confident and direct, but also kind, generous and thoughtful.  
“I have plenty for the both of us,” Al agreed. Harry couldn’t argue with this either. Out of his three kids, Al was the one who worried about everything and wanted all that he did to be perfect.   
Harry turned to his sons and said, “Well, if either of you are feeling unhappy in any way, I want you to know you can come to me or your mother. We love all of you very much and will be here for you anytime you need us.”  
“Of course, Dad,” James smiled, “We love you, too,”  
“Love you, Daddy!” Lily shrieked, causing the whole table to laugh.   
“I love you all, too,” Ginny said from the doorway, “But I need to get to the pitch!” she turned to look at Harry, “You have a study thing today, right?”  
Guilt bubbled up in Harry’s throat, “Yes,” he lied, “I’ll take the kids to Grandma Molly’s.”  
“Will Rose be there?” Albus inquired eagerly.  
“I’ll make sure of it,” Harry said to his son, trying to make himself feel better by thinking about how much his kids loved going to their grandparents’ house.  
\----

Harry looked up at the sign of the small cafe. It read “Smith and Walton’s Cafe’ in cursive next giant wooden cinnamon roll, which the sign in the window below the sign said was the cafe’s specialty. He silently thanked Malfoy for his selection of the meeting place. They had been meeting in various muggle locations to avoid being overheard by other witches and wizards. Last time they had gone to a bar in Watford that had been loud, smelly and generally impossible to concentrate in. Malfoy had agreed, and had clearly gone with the opposite approach in choosing this small and wonderfully smelling cafe. Not to mention the fact Harry was starving and was already planning on ordering multiple cinnamon rolls along with some type of tea. Harry walked towards the small wooden door of the cafe and pushed it open.  
The inside of the cafe felt like walking into the Burrow. It was chaotic, filled with countless signs and framed posters of everything from the Beatles to famous British football teams. From one look around, Harry spotted a watering can suspended from the ceiling painted in red, blue and white, a wall covered with framed records, a bright red couch that seemed to have signatures covering every available spot and a light fixture shaped as England itself. Harry, who could have looked at the walls of this cafe all day without finding everything they had to offer, told himself to try and find Malfoy. It wasn’t hard; the cafe was so small that he easily recognized Malfoy’s bright blond hair at a table at the back of the cafe, directly next to a giant poster of David Beckham.  
Smirking, Harry made his way to the table. He sat down in the chair across from Malfoy, who was so immersed in one of his binders that he didn’t even acknowledge Harry’s presence.   
“Choose the table with a view, eh?” Harry joked, glancing up at the mid-action shot of Beckham kicking a football.   
Malfoy looked up, his blue eyes alight with surprise until he realized it was Harry. He then ran a hand through tossed blonde hair and glowered, “For your information, I choose this spot not because of Mr. Beckham but the Spice Girls. I happen to enjoy their music” He gestured towards a poster directly behind Malfoy that Harry had missed. Sure enough, the Spice Girls posed on the album cover of ‘Spice’ in all their mid-90s glory.  
Harry just stared at Malfoy’s head, as he had once again bent over his binder as if Harry had never shown up. So not only did Malfoy know who the Spice Girls were, he listened to them. Draco bloody Malfoy listened to the Spice Girls.   
“You listen to muggle music?” Harry asked Malfoy’s head.  
“Well, after a childhood of Celestina Warbeck, it was only a matter of time before I converted to muggle music,” Malfoy shuddered as he looked up at Harry, “I mean, you can only listen to ‘A Cauldron Full Of Hot, Strong Love’ so many times before you lose all faith in humanity.”  
Harry snorted, “Your mother was a fan, I presume?”  
Malfoy nodded solemnly, “A bloody disciple more like it. And my father tried to pretend he hated the music as well, but I never bought it. I saw him once put on one of her albums while alone in his study.”  
Harry laughed and began to tell stories about Molly’s own obsession with Celestina.  
“You know, it’s funny,” Harry said after he and Malfoy finished laughing over the time Molly dragged Arthur to an album signing after finding him hiding in the broom shed, “I bet if you got Molly and your mother together, they could talk about Celestina for hours.”  
Malfoy grimaced slightly at this and Harry immediately felt a twinge of regret. Realistically, if Molly and Narcissa Malfoy got together, they would talk about anything but something as colloquial as their love for a famous witch.  
Thankfully, Malfoy moved to slide his binder towards Harry and began to talk about a man he had been trailing the last couple days. Harry leaned in and listened raptly; the man Marcus Olio, sounded like a legitimate suspect. Malfoy had seen him lurking outside of multiple muggle pubs and shops.   
“And the other day,” Malfoy continued, eyes bright, “He walked around the entrance to St. Mungos for a couple hours. I can guarantee there's a fat chance he was just window shopping in a rundown part of a muggle area just outside Mungos.”  
“What do you think he was doing?” Harry asked, slightly upset that Malfoy did not ask him to help when he was right outside of the place Harry worked.  
“That, I don't know. But I think you should start using the entrance to Mungos through the street,” Malfoy stated, “If you don't mind? Since you are already there?”  
“Of course!” Harry replied, finally glad to know Malfoy trusted him to help. He didn't agree to do something this dangerous for nothing.  
Malfoy looked at him with an expression Harry recognized as a mixture of excitement and worry. It was one he wore frequently.  
“Harry, you don't have to do this,” he said softly. The intensity in his voice sent shivers down Harry’s spine, “This is my job, my decision. I just got excited that someone else believed me. That doesn't make it right for me to use you.”  
“Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. You're not using me. It was my idea, remember?” Harry forced himself to look Malfoy in the eye.   
Malfoy met his gaze and then suddenly looked down, “And I shouldn't have agreed,” he murmured. He began to align his papers back into his binder, “I'm taking you off the case,” he said bitterly.  
Harry stood up abruptly as Malfoy moved to walk out of the cafe, “You bloody well will not! I may not be an Auror anymore, but I care what happens to wizarding society! I'm not going to sit back and let you do this on your own when I can help!” Harry finished, breathless, and refused to look away from Malfoy as the man stood stunned in front of him.   
“I will never understand you, Potter,” Malfoy said in a strange tone, but thankfully he lowered himself back into his seat.  
“It's part of my charm,” Harry quipped, taking a long swing of his coffee and grinning at Malfoy, “Let’s get to work!”


	5. Chapter 5

“Padma!” Aviary yelped, swatting the woman in question on her arm, “I was not staring at his arse! Stop trying to set me up, or I’ll start personally telling all the women in the room that you’re available!”  
Padma gasped at this while Ida and Harry began to laugh. “I was only trying to help, Av,” Padma said defensively, sending a half-hearted glare at Aviary.  
“Then it’s only fair we help you, Padma,” Ida chimed in.   
Harry smiled as Aviary began to talk about a woman she had a suspicion wasn’t straight as Padma shot her down continuously. Harry knew Padma well enough to know she wasn’t the type to hook up or even talk to a stranger in a bar. Over the numerous years he had known Padma, he had only seen her with a date twice. The first time was with Ron at the Yule Ball, which was now only mentioned as a source of humor for Padma, who liked to poke fun at how abysmal Ron and Harry were as dates (Parvati had her complaints as well). The second time was at one of the annual Ministry Balls. Padma had shown up with a kind and pretty girl named Stacia who Harry had instantly liked. Unfortunately, Stacia had moved to Albania only a few months into their relationship and Padma had stood firm against long distance. This was all in sharp contrast to her twin sister, Parvati, who Harry had seen date more men and women than he could count. It was only in the last couple of years that she reconnected with Lavender (it was only a matter of time until one of them proposed. Harry had never heard two people talk about weddings more). Padma, however, never seemed upset to be single. She was more sure of herself than most people and never seemed interested in seeing anyone. That, however, didn’t stop her from pointing out people for her friends to hook up with when at a pub. Harry was glad for this; he had missed these pub nights after a long day at the office with his Auror friends.  
Ida had initially invited Harry out to the Leaky in order to catch up, but told Harry she ran into Padma and Aviary as she was leaving the office and couldn’t resist inviting them along. Harry had no complaints. He had been missing Padma severely over the past month or so, and although he didn’t know Aviary well, he was liking her more and more every time he talked to her.  
“What does Harry think?” Aviary asked, turning to him expectantly.  
Realizing he had not been listening to the conversation in the slightest, Harry said, “What do I think about what?”  
Ida sighed and threw her arm around Harry, “Typical Harry bloody Potter. Never listening until the conversation is about him.”  
Harry shot a look of mock offense at her. “I don’t do that!” he said indignantly, “Just tell me whatever it is that you three need me to weigh in on.”  
Aviary leaned back against the bar, beer grasped in her hand and eyes slightly unfocused, “Harry, sweet Harry,” she began to gesture at the pub-goers in front of her, “If I were to shag one of these fine fellows in this very pub, who shall it be?”  
Harry choked on his own drink as she said this, “Why do I have to choose? What do I know about blokes?”  
Ida patted him on the back and gave a snort, “You don’t have to be queer to be able to identify a good looking bloke.”  
“It’s true,” Padma confirmed, “I already choose the tall, dark and handsome bloke in the corner,” she gestured towards the right of the bar. Harry gave a start. The man was Blaise Zabini!  
“I know what you are thinking,” Padma supplied, “But it’s not Zabini. It sure does look like him though. And although I hate to admit it, Zabini is a fine bloke. My ruddy sister was right,” She shuddered at this and took a swing of her butterbeer. Padma wasn’t much of a drinker.  
Harry looked closer; sure enough, the man was not Zabini. His build wasn’t as lean and his smile wasn’t as kind. Harry wondered absently when he had begun to think of Zabini’s smile as kind.   
“That’s a fine choice,” Harry said reluctantly, “But I would have to say Zabini himself is far better looking.”  
The girls all laughed at this. “He’s playing!” Aviary exclaimed. She grabbed his arm and pointed with her beer hand around the room, “If fake Zabini isn’t your first choice, then who is?”  
Harry looked around. There was no use fighting it, his friends weren’t going to let him get out of this one. He began to scour the room for subjectively attractive blokes. Multiple times he thought he saw a winner, but then he would notice someone more appealing only a second later. Harry anxiously noticed the girls were stealing strange glances. Was he taking too long to pick? What were they thinking? He quickly pointed at the back of a bloke wearing a stylish gray jumper and a beanie. From the back he looked young, and well, fit, so Harry assumed he would be a good choice.  
“That bloke,” Harry pointed, “The one in the beanie.”  
“I do like a bloke with a strong sense of muggle fashion,” Aviary approved.  
Padma and Ida began to laugh at this, but Harry barely heard them. The man had just turned around. The beanie had obscured a key feature to this man’s physique. He had platinum blond hair that stuck out in pieces from under the beanie. When piercing blue eyes caught Harry’s own, he acted without thinking and apparated into his kitchen, breathing heavily as he landed next to Ginny and his kids playing ‘Sorry’ at the dining room table.   
“Harry?” Ginny gasped, surprised, “Are you alright? You’re extremely pale.”  
Harry nodded in what he hoped was a reassuring manner as Lily ran at his knees to wrap herself around him. He feebly tried to think of an excuse for why he was home so early when three of the four people he least wanted to see at the moment apparated into the kitchen.  
“Harry!” Ida said, concern etching her face, “We were so worried! One moment you were talking to us and the next you were gone!”  
“Thankfully, Padma realized you probably just apparated home, you know, after…” Aviary trailed off.  
“After what?” Ginny questioned, looking from the girls to Harry.  
“Yeah, after what?” James piped in, to which Ginny shot him a look and told him to take his siblings up to get ready for bed.  
“I don’t need supervision,” Al snapped as James moved to grab his hand and then Lily’s. Harry, Ginny and the rest said goodnight to his kids, watching as they made their way upstairs and out of sight.  
“They’ll be listening to whatever it is you have to say,” Ginny warned to group, “So I surely hope what happened was an age appropriate incident.”  
“It’s not bad, Gin,” Padma reassured lightly, “All we did was ask Harry’s opinion on a bloke for Aviary to hypothetically shag. And…” she paused as she saw Harry’s expression. Harry had no idea if they had noticed the bloke was Malfoy, but he hoped if they did they neglected to mention it to his wife.   
“He must’ve gotten weird about it,” Ida covered, “Straight males tend to struggle with implications of homosexuality.”  
Harry was part relieved at this statement and part horrified. Settling for horrified, Harry said quickly, “That had nothing to do with it! I felt a bit queasy so I quickly apparated home. Thankfully, I feel much better now so it’s nothing to fret about.”  
Harry was sure none of the women were buying this (although it wasn’t really a lie. Harry had felt quite queasy), but thankfully none of them went on to say anything else.  
Harry filled the silence with, “Why don’t the five of us stay here? We probably shouldn’t drink ourselves silly with kids in the house, but we could still have a good time with a few silencing charms! How about that?”  
“That sounds great, Harry,” Ida said, and to his relief she didn’t seem disappointed to have her pub idea derailed.   
After several attempts to get their children to go to sleep (Harry had never met someone with less of a desire to sleep than his daughter), Ginny and Harry placed a couple silencing charms around their living room and began to talk. Harry found that he rather enjoyed the quiet atmosphere of his home; he could hear everything his friends said to him and to each other. Harry also enjoyed having Ginny present. He had forgotten how much fun it used to be when they would hang out with groups like this more frequently. Ginny was an easy-going and cheerful presence that had story upon story about quidditch practices that sent the group into uncontrollable fits of laughter numerous times throughout the night. Even the slightly touchy subject of Ginny hating Ida’s cousin made for easy conversation. As it turns out, Ida really couldn’t stand her cousin, especially of late.  
“Just last week,” Ida said from her perch on one of the armchairs, “He became furious at me for not coming to help out at one of his practices! Apparently, Puddlemere needs someone to help with setting up for practices and keeping the players hydrated. He told me he thought I would be honored to fetch water for his team, the wanker!”  
“Unbelievable,” Ginny scowled, “He really is a prat. His team can get their own ruddy water!”  
“He’s always been like this,” Ida explained, leaning back in her chair, “He grew up here in England with all the money a boy could want. His mother and father managed to leave the Philippines before Reega’s regime. So while I was growing up poor and afraid of being a witch, he was enjoying himself as a pureblood in England. Even during the second wizarding war, he was never living in fear, with his status. A real punyeta he has turned out to be because of this privilege.”  
Ida had told Harry all about her life as a child in the Philippines. The Minister of Magic, a bloke named Dansell Reega, had held very odd beliefs on how to run a wizarding society. He believed that the best way to keep wizards and witches safe was to make them think and act as if they were second to the rights and desires of muggles. He preached that every family should live in small houses in the middle of nowhere to prevent getting in the way of muggles in any form. So while Ida’s family had plenty of money, being one of the oldest and wealthiest wizarding families in the world, Reega’s decades-long employment as Minister forced Ida and her family to live in dreadful conditions. Only recently had the new Minister, Janika Aquino, taken over Reega’s position and begun to run the Filipino Ministry of Magic in a way quite similar to the present English Ministry. So while things in the Philippines were looking up, Ida had managed to leave, besides her parents' protests, while Reega was still in office. As a result, her entire childhood experience was surrounded by the darkness of Reega’s cruel instruction. Aries, on the other hand, had never experienced Reega’s regime in any form. He had lived as a privileged pureblood in England his entire life.   
Harry began to think, without meaning to, about Malfoy. He had been raised in a similar situation and had been an arse for most of his youth. Harry now pictured the Malfoy he had recently befriended as an adult. What did it take to become a new person? And even as a thought in the back of Harry’s mind became to question whether change was really entirely possible, he couldn’t help but believe Malfoy wasn’t the same person and never would be again.   
“Were your aunt and uncle Death Eaters?” Padma asked softly, looking tentatively at Ida. Harry quickly tuned back into the conversation.  
Ida shook her head, the long braids running down to her waist moving accordingly, “No, they were not. They are good people, just privileged. Yes, even Aries,” Ida added as Ginny made a skeptical grimace, “Aries is a prat through and through, but he isn’t inherently… well… evil.” She shuddered and then continued, “None of our family holds prejudiced views. Our ancestors have seen too thoroughly acts of injustice against people for things they cannot control. That’s actually why I became an Auror here in England. I wanted to help fight to make the world better for others as moving to England did for me. Now, of course, the Ministry of the Philippines is much better under the direction of Aquino, which is a relief for all of us.”  
Harry gripped Ida’s hand as she finished talking. He remembered clearly the day Ida had first told him all of this when they had just become partners. Her determination and resilience is what drew him to her and assured him that she would make a fantastic partner. Now, looking over at Aviary, whose eyes were shining softly with tears and admiration, Harry knew Ida would be a source of inspiration for someone else.   
“It’s reassuring to see that the Imperius attacks have stopped in the last couple of weeks,” Ida’s voice in the room filled the silence that had fallen over it, “It makes me feel as though our work is making something of a difference.”  
Harry looked eagerly at Ida, “Did you all find some new evidence? Or discover anything about the attacks?”  
Padma shook her head, “Not exactly. But Ron, Ida, Aviary and I have been in charge of sending Aurors to patrol muggle communities where we believe strikes are most likely to happen. So far, we seemed to have stopped attacks for the time being. We haven’t seen any usual activity in awhile.”  
“We do think that…” Ida paused and looked at Padma and Aviary to see if they would say anything against her telling Harry any more information. Neither said anything, so Ida plowed on, “We think that the attacks are a solo operation.”  
“Really?” Harry said, thinking immediately of Malfoy spending hours pouring over a binder that said otherwise.  
“Yes,” Aviary jumped in, clearly excited at a new bit of evidence, “We have been able to use our wands to pick up traces of what wand has been used to cast the Imperius curse!”  
“You know what wand was used!?” Harry nearly shouted, springing from his chair, “That’s crucial information? Why did no one tell me?”  
“Harry, calm down,” Padma instructed, “First of all, no one told you because you are not an Auror. You can’t be upset with us for not telling you everything that happens…”  
“But...” Harry interrupted frantically only to have Padma cut him off.  
“Second of all,” she said forcibly, “We don’t know what wand is being used. Whoever is casting the curse is doing a great job of concealing their own magic. We were only able to detect that one wand is being used during all of the attacks, not multiple.”  
Harry shook his head, “If the person is really good at concealing magic, couldn’t they be allowing the Aurors to see that one wand was used?”  
“I don’t think so, Harry,” Ida said, “It’s much more likely they never realized Aurors could detect the number of wands being used. And besides, it doesn’t really help us determine anything, so what would be the point of concealing it anyway?”  
Aviary countered with, “But it’s great evidence!” while Harry said indignantly, “To cover up the fact a group is performing the curses! A renowned group that could be connected to the crime!” He was positive this was true; it had to be Kareach! He needed to talk to Malfoy.  
Ida looked at him skeptically, “Like what group, Harry? The Ministry hasn’t dealt with groups of Death Eaters in years!”  
Harry shook his head, “Something different, something new. Certainly you know what I am talking about?”  
Ida, Padma and Aviary all exchanged worried looks while Ginny looked at Harry with mixed concern and confusion.   
“Harry…” Padma said hesitantly, “If you are talking about that group Karich, or Keach, or whatever, those are all ridiculous rumors probably started by paranoid witches and wizards fearing the return of Voldemort’s influence. None of it’s true.”  
“No,” Harry snapped, suddenly angry, “It’s all true! All of it! You should be doing more to stop it instead of sitting around in muggle towns!”  
Padma bristled with anger as Aviary and Ida looked at Harry in shock.   
“Harry!” Ginny gasped, alarmed, “What is going on? Why do you think this organization is real?”  
“Because it is!” Harry jumped up, fully aware he was being rude but not caring in the slightest, “I need to leave.”  
With that, he apparated out of the house, straight to the Leaky Cauldron.  
\----  
Harry searched frantically around the pub for Malfoy. To his dismay, the beanie clad man was nowhere in sight. Harry sighed and heaved himself onto an empty stool. He supposed he could call Malfoy, but he wanted to tell him everything that had just happened in person. He wanted to share his anger towards Ida, Padma and Aviary with someone. Having long forgotten his awkward interaction with Malfoy only hours before, he was now focused on finding the git and talking to him.   
Harry ordered a drink, hoping to ease some of his tension. He was now becoming mad at himself for acting the way he did towards his friends, but this anger at himself did not erase the anger he still felt towards them. They had basically shoved aside everything he and Malfoy had been doing for the past month in a matter of seconds. But as much as Harry wanted to go back and tell them all the evidence they had found themselves, he knew he wouldn’t. This investigation was Malfoy’s. As much as Harry trusted the Aurors, he didn’t trust that his newfound friendship with Malfoy would survive Harry giving away all their information. And, despite himself, Harry was rather starting to like the time he spent with his once schoolboy enemy. He was funny, clever and surprisingly caring, and well, Harry didn’t know. Something he couldn’t quite explain.  
Harry sighed heavily and drowned his drink in one gulp. Standing up, he moved to get one last look at the pub before heading goodness knows where. He couldn’t go home now, surely, when he was still too mad at his friends to apologize for his outburst. That’s when he saw it- blindingly bright blond hair reflecting the dim lights shining from overhead. Harry moved without thinking towards Malfoy.  
“Oi, Malfoy!” Harry yelled across the noise of the pub. Malfoy turned at the sound of his voice.  
“Potter?” he said hesitantly, “What on earth…”  
“I need to tell you something,” Harry stated, looking directly into Malfoy’s eyes and hating himself for how much he liked how blue they were. Maybe he wasn’t really over his recent selection of Mafloy out of the room full of blokes as the one who would provide the best shag.   
“Harry Potter?” slurred a voice from his side. He tore his eyes away from Malfoy to address Pansy Parkinson, short black hair framing her face in a stylish bob and deep brown eyes wide.  
“Draco,” she wrapped her hand around his wrist, “Is this a situation where I need to be ready to hex? Because I’m pretty pissed but I can try…” she trailed off as an attractive woman with long silky hair and a short dress beckoned to her.  
“Nice to see ya, Potter!” she barely looked back at Malfoy as she made her way with the woman to the center of the pub.  
“At least I know now I’m on my own if I’m ever in real trouble,” Malfoy gave a soft smirk as he watched his friend leave. He then looked at Harry, the amused expression growing, “Is this drunk Potter or useful information Potter because I’m not quite sure how I should be taking your sudden reappearance.”  
“I have real news,” Harry grabbed Malfoy’s arm and waved his wand, focusing on the street outside of Smith and Walton’s Cafe. After the brief compressing darkness, Harry and Malfoy reappeared outside of the cafe.  
“What the hell, Potter?” Malfoy accused, “At least warn me next time.”  
Harry ignored this as he walked into the cafe and made his way to their usual table. Malfoy sat down, concern now etching his face. Harry immediately began to tell Malfoy what he had heard tonight, expressing his frustration at the complete lack of belief in Kareach from his friends.  
When Harry finished, Malfoy sighed, “Potter, I told you none of the Aurors believed in Kareach.”  
“I know,” Harry said desperately, “But I thought...”  
“You could change the mind of the most stubborn group of people in the Ministry?” Malfoy finished for him.  
“They’re stubborn but reasonable…” Harry murmured.  
“From what I know of Aurors, they don’t take advice from non-Aurors well,” Malfoy said, “They don’t value evidence from outside their own sources.”  
“But I was an Auror!” Harry protested.  
“A good one?” Malfoy asked, a small smile forming on his face.  
Harry opened his mouth to argue this, but a waitress approached them. They both ordered their usual teas and a plate of scones. As she walked away, Harry turned back to Malfoy,   
“Bloody prat, I was a fucking fantastic Auror!” Harry snapped.  
“Then why leave? I heard it was because you thought Granger-Weasley had a particular scent to him that you just couldn’t ignore enough,” Malfoy was smiling quite annoyingly.  
Harry pulled a face, “I left because I make a better Healer. I’m a man of many talents.”  
“That, we may never know,” Malfoy quipped.   
“Oh, ha ha. Make fun of the man who tried to do something with this investigation,” Harry frowned.  
“We are doing something, Potter! We have to figure it out ourselves, prove that we are right. As of involving the Aurors with our evidence, they will only continue to claim it's all circumstantial and not take it seriously. And they wouldn’t be wrong,” Malfoy picked at the corner of a menu as he continued, “We have no solid proof. But we know. Right?”  
He looked into Harry’s eyes. Harry nodded, any anger at Malfoy alleviating as purpose began surging through his veins.   
“Yes, we do,” he agreed, “And now we know that Kareach is trying to conceal their group and that it’s effective. We need to prove the attacks involved more than one person.”  
“My thoughts exactly,” Malfoy agreed, “We’ll meet next Monday, Wednesday, Saturday…”  
\----

Harry didn’t get home until early the next morning. He ended up crashing on the couch as soon as he walked in. Harry and Malfoy had stayed in the cafe until the sun began to shine in through the multi-colored glass windows, talking about their theories for Kareach, everything from members and strategies to potential meeting places. Harry had blocked out his outburst from the night before until he apparated into his living room and saw the glasses of wine and bottles of beer still lying on tables throughout his living room. Guilt hit him hard in this moment, but before he had much time to think about it, he collapsed from complete exhaustion on the couch.   
Harry was awoken some time later with a sharp stinging in his side. He sprang off the couch and looked around blurrily for his wand.  
“It was me, Harry,” Harry recognized the waspish voice as his wife’s.   
“Accio glasses,” Ginny called. He heard a whoosh as his glasses flew into Ginny’s awaiting hand. She then thrust the glasses into his hand. Harry put them on wearily.  
“Where the fuck were you?” Ginny whispered harshly, no doubt trying to avoid waking their kids, “You threw a tantrum and then seemingly disappeared from the face of the Earth! No calls, no explanations, no anything!” Ginny began to pace the room, her face twisted with rage, “I’m your wife! You can’t just decide your mad over... well, I don’t even know what! Some secret society the best Aurors don’t believe is real? What is going on with you!?”  
Harry looked sheepishly down at the floor, mind racing as he tried to think of what to say. He couldn’t tell her about Malfoy, about the investigation. In fact, while he abhorred lying straight to her face, he didn’t fancy the idea of her knowing about the investigation at all. It was more than she thinking it was dangerous; Harry knew the investigation belonged to him and Malfoy and their weird new friendship.   
“Harry,” Ginny snapped, holding up her wand threateningly, “I will sting you again. I don’t want you to think of some ruddy excuse to tell me. I want the truth. For once!”  
“I was at a pub! A muggle one,” Harry thought fast, “With two trainees, Caser and Hedra. I knew they were going out last night and they had initially offered for me to join. I showed up and got pissed.”  
Ginny raised her eyebrows, “And this secret society you're obsessed with? What is it?”  
“It’s, well, a rumor,” Harry relented, “A good one at that, but it really is a rumor. One that’s spreading around the hospital. I just thought the Aurors should take it seriously. But,” he finally looked Ginny in the eye, “I took it way too far. I’m sorry.”  
“I’m not the only one you need to apologize to,” Ginny pointed out, “You yelled at three of your friends last night for no reason.”  
Harry bristled slightly at this. He happened to believe he had a fucking great reason. But with that said, he really did feel sorry.  
“I’ll talk to all of them straight away,” he assured, “And I promise you, Ginny, I won’t sneak off to any more pubs without you knowing.”  
“You sure as hell won’t,” Ginny heaved a sigh and sat in a chair. Her anger seemed to dissipate as she stared blankly out in front of her. Finally, she turned to Harry and said, “Please don’t turn me into my mother. I don’t want to be the wife and mum that yells whenever anything goes wrong. Just let me know about things, okay? Stop being so distant. We’re a team.”  
Harry nodded as he sat down beside her. He reached for her hand and grasped it tightly.   
“Things will change, Gin. I promise.”  
\---  
“I still can’t believe he set the shed on fire! That’s some powerful magic right out of the gate!” Arthur exclaimed to Bill, twirling his own wand in the air, “My first magical “accident” so to speak was making a pebble float by looking at it! Hardly impressive, I have to say.”  
“Fleur said the first time she accidentally used magic was when she changed her aunt’s outfit by thinking about how ugly she thought it to be. And, of course, Victore’s was when she saved the cat from falling out the window. It was only likely that Louie’s first time would be just as dramatic,” Bill said conversationally to his father.  
“For my first use of magic, I made my mother fly about ten meters in the air. She was always very proud, although I don’t think pride was written across her face when she thought she was never coming down from the sky,” Angelina added.  
Harry, Arthur and Bill laughed at this. Only a few hours after his talk with Ginny, he was once again at the Burrow for Sunday lunch. They were all waiting to eat, with Ron and Hermione pulling the bulk of the preparation as they had been absent from numerous lunches due to their jobs. This gave Harry the opportunity to catch up with everyone. He had just finished learning about Louis’s first time using magic accidentally, which had drawn the entire family’s attention to Louis, resulting in him leaving to play in the yard with James and Roxy only minutes after arriving. Harry couldn't blame the kid; Molly had started baking an entire cake for him as soon as she heard.   
“Bill, how is everything going at Gringotts?” Angelina asked. Harry listened as Bill began to talk about the increased security measures the bank was taking to protect against Imperius attacks.  
“I mean, we are in Diagon Alley,” Bill said, “Even with our strong security, we have to be careful.”  
“George is still taking all the necessary security precautions as well, right, Angelina?” Arthur asked worriedly, no doubt thinking about all the possible things that could be poisoned effectively in WWW.   
“Of course, Arthur,” Angelina reassured, “I’ve seen to it myself. Even if the attacks haven’t been in Diagon Alley recently, it doesn’t mean they won’t happen again.”  
The conversation carried on as smells of lunch wafted in through the kitchen. He was in the middle of discussing Healer Patrick and his week of aiding her with the group when his phone started ringing from his back pocket.  
Arthur’s eyes lit up immediately. He had his own phone now, as he had been so desperately fascinated by them, but he still got beyond excited when Harry used his.   
“Who is it? A muggle?” Arthur said eagerly.   
Harry reached into his back pocket and pulled out the phone, knowing full well most of the people that would call were already at the Burrow. A small bout of panic sprang up in his chest as he spotted the name ‘Draco Malfoy’ flashing across the small screen.  
“Eh, it’s...eh… the hospital!” Harry shot up from his seat, “I’ll take it outside.”   
Harry rushed out into the front yard, relieved to see most of the kids had congregated to the back of the house. He quickly clicked the answer bottom.  
“Hello?” he whispered, looking around.  
“Why are you whispering?” Malfoy asked, “Where are you?”  
“At home,” Harry said, more aggressively than he had hoped, “What’s going on?”  
“Okay…” Malfoy sounded concerned, “I thought we could meet today? In the park? I was planning to bring Murr, if that seals the deal. I really need to talk to you.”  
Before thinking, Harry said, “Yes! I’ll meet you in ten.”  
He hung out before the conversation could get any more disastrous. As soon as Harry had heard that Malfoy ‘really needed to talk to him’, he knew he had no choice but to go. Malfoy could have no information that Harry could risk meeting a Burrow lunch for.  
Harry strode back into the Burrow through the kitchen door. Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Al, Rose and Fred were all helping put the finishing touches on lunch.   
“Harry, dear, food is almost ready!” Molly said over the sound of the loud argument between Ron and Ginny, “Ron, Ginny, you are adults!” she snapped. Turning back to Harry, she smiled, “Would you mind setting the table?”  
“Actually, Molly…” he hesitated, not wanting to say he was leaving the Burrow before eating lunch, “I have to go. Healer emergency.”  
Ginny whipped around at this, staring at him in shock.  
“What happened, Harry?” Hermione worried from above a pile of carrots, “Should I be back at work?”  
“No, not at all,” Harry assured, “Healer Patrick asked for my help for the day, and I can’t pass that up. Not when I want to work in her department.”  
He looked back over to Ginny, but she had bent over her own pile of vegetables, evidently not interested in addressing Harry.  
“No worries, my dear!” Molly exclaimed, “You will be missed, but we understand the importance of opportunity.”  
Harry thanked her and made his way around the house saying goodbye to the rest of his family. He then stepped out into the yard to apparate, mind envisioning the large park in the center of his neighborhood.  
\---  
Harry sat on a park bench upon arrival, planning to wait next to the fountain until Malfoy showed. He didn’t have to wait long. In less than two minutes Malfoy materialized in front of him. They were unseen by anyone due to the protective charms the two had placed around the fountain weeks ago when they started using the park as a meeting place. It was perfect due to the usual absence of wizards and wide open spaces. Even if a wizard or witch did show at the park, it was easy for them to prevent being overheard.   
To Harry’s immediate amusement, Malfoy was leading a long, slender creature on a bright yellow leash towards him. As he neared, Harry recognized the animal as none other than the famous and previously unacquainted Murr, which Harry could confirm by the small collar along the ferret’s neck spelling out his name in bright, golden letters.   
“And all this time I thought it was a joke!” Harry teased, getting off the bench in order to bend down and greet the ferret. To his delight, Murr nuzzled into his touch.  
“I would never lie about Murr,” Malfoy said seriously, “He deserves more than that.”  
“I can’t argue with that,” Harry agreed, watching as the ferret rolled over onto his back with his little paws up in the air and an imploring look in Harry’s direction, “This is about the most well behaved animal I have ever encountered. And I’ve meant numerous Animagi.”  
Malfoy laughed, a clear and light sound, “What did you think, Potter? I was going to let my Murr behave like any other ferret, or animal to be precise? You must know me better than that by now.”  
Harry snorted. In all actuality, Harry wouldn’t expect anything else from a pet of Malfoy’s. He had already seen the way he treated everything in his life, with a care and precision Harry hadn’t thought possible, and he was best friends with Hermione Granger- Weasley. He had also met Malfoy’s gracious and dignified child, so it was no wonder he raised a ferret to be held up to the same standards.  
“I really wouldn’t expect anything less, Malfoy,” Harry said, standing up regretfully from Murr to look at Malfoy.  
“And as much as I would like to pet this little bugger for the rest of the day, I suppose we need to talk about whatever this emergency is about.”  
He looked at Malfoy expectantly and anxiously, waiting for him to reveal what could be good or bad news about their investigation. Malfoy, however, looked a little confused as he pulled his jacket a little tighter against the cold early winter day.  
“Emergency? Did I say that?” Malfoy responded.  
“Well, you said ‘we need to talk’” Harry said, “Which I took as you had something important to tell me.”  
“I suppose it’s always an emergency, with the urgency of our investigation,” Malfoy commented, “But I don’t have any new crucial information. I’ve just been home alone all day with thoughts and speculations swarming through my brain, and you are the only one I can talk to.”  
Harry stared at Malfoy. So he only wanted someone to talk to? Why hadn’t he said so? Anger began to form a pit in his stomach. He had left Sunday lunch and ticked off his wife for what? A chat session in the park?  
“Potter…” Malfoy said hesitantly, noticing Harry’s fuming silence.  
“What the fuck?” Harry snapped suddenly, causing Malfoy to take a few steps back.  
“What…” Malfoy started again, but Harry cut him off.  
“I was at Sunday lunch at the Burrow, for goodness’s sake! I had to make up some excuse and leave my entire family! I can’t just drop everything whenever you need to talk!” Harry spat at Malfoy, ignoring the growing anger present in the pale face he was screaming at.  
“I didn’t ask you to do any of that, Potter,” Malfoy said, voice unnervingly even.  
“You bloody well just about do when you make it sound like an emergency!” Harry countered.  
“Potter…” Malfoy said.  
“No! My family deserves the truth! I can’t lie and sneak off with you all the time!” Harry was unsure why he was becoming so mad, but he felt out of control and extremely on edge.  
“Then tell them the fucking truth, Potter!” Malfoy snapped.  
“My name is Harry!” Harry nearly screamed at Malfoy, causing a woman pushing her child in a stroller to speed up as she walked past them, “Harry fucking Potter!”  
Malfoy looked utterly confused. He stared at Harry for a moment, as if he was a puzzle he could never solve, and let out a loud laugh.  
Harry looked at him, laughing in the most un-Draco like way he could imagine, and began to feel himself lose his edge. Soon he was laughing too, reaching out a hand to balance himself on Draco’s shoulder.  
“So,” Draco said, composing himself, “Should I only refer to you as ‘Harry fucking Potter’, or will just ‘Harry’ do?”  
“Shut up, you prat,” Harry said.   
“Alright, Harry,” Draco emphasized, “Do you maybe want to head back to the Burrow since I made such a mess of your afternoon?”  
Harry sighed, “You didn’t make a mess of it. I’m sorry I overreacted.”  
“Overreacted?” Draco deadpanned, “Gee, I didn’t notice.”  
“Next time specify emergencies, Draco,” Harry muttered, “Then we won’t have this problem.”   
The name felt weird to say, as if it was tabooed like Voldemort’s name had once been. He had never said Draco’s name if he could avoid it. Harry hadn’t realized how much it bothered him; but if the two were friends now, shouldn’t they call each other by their proper names? Harry was determined to break the schoolboy taboo and address Draco by his actual name, not the surname Harry knew Draco did not value as much as he once did.   
“So…” Draco gave Harry a questioning look.  
“I’m not going back to the Burrow, idiot,” Harry told Draco, “So tell me all the thoughts that have been swarming that poor brain of yours.”  
Draco’s smile lit up his whole face, which Harry quickly turned away from. Draco didn’t seem to notice; he quickly went into a dream he had last night that made him think about another possible member of Kareach. Harry listened intently, talking Draco through all of his new ideas and theories. Although Harry had made quite an issue of it, he didn’t really mind missing an afternoon at the Burrow for this.  
\---  
Harry sat in the canteen, trying to enjoy the moment of peace before he started another round of practice demonstrations. On demonstration days, Brayan had each trainee attempt a task in front of all the trainees for the duration of the day. As a result, the day had been monotonous and tiring, and all Harry wanted to do was go home and starfish on his bed. Harry took another bite of his ham and cheese sandwich and let out a long sigh. His brain began to drift to the night before, when he came home as the sun began to set to find Ginny sitting in their living room, reading a book to James, Al and Lily. Harry had been expecting another long conversation and desperate apology from himself after the kids went to bed, but Ginny barely spoke to him. She briefly asked him if everything had gone well at the hospital, to which Harry said yes. He almost threw in a fake story about his supposed time at the hospital, but decided that was a step too far. Now he had no idea where he and Ginny stood and whether or not they planned on talking, like really talking, anytime soon.   
Harry gave another long sigh and was about to take a bite of his sandwich when he felt a hard tap on his shoulder. He turned around, wondering if Dean would have the same break time as him after all, when he saw Seb, the patient he had helped a couple of weeks ago who had had dragon pox. Now, however, he had no trace of the green that had once plagued his skin. His skin was sun kissed and smooth, working perfectly with his extremely blonde hair and coffee-brown eyes. Harry’s heart did a weird jolt that he jotted down to surprise- he had never seen Seb without Dragon Pox, he was merely relieved at the bloke’s recovery.   
“Hello!” Seb said brightly, “Mind if I sit?” he gestured at the chair across from Harry.  
“Go ahead.” Harry watched as Seb fell into the chair abruptly and beamed at him. Seb had an energy Harry had never seen in anyone else, despite perhaps his own children.   
“I’m recovered!” Seb exclaimed, holding his arms out wide to show off his dragon pox free complexion.  
“That’s incredible!” Harry smiled at him, “Did you come back for your check-up?” Dragon pox patients had to come back for a check-up a month after full recovery to make sure the disease was truly gone.  
“Yep,” Seb confirmed, tapping his hand against the table without seeming to notice, “And I’m all clear! Mighty glad I got through that mess, it was something just short of hell.”  
“But you pulled it off,” Harry commented, blushing slightly as he wondered what that implied.  
“Pulled off the green and red look? I sure hope so,” Seb said, “This hospital has too many attractive healers for me to look bad while I’m half-dead with dragon pox.”  
He looked directly at Harry as he said this, making Harry feel unnerved. Harry let out a laugh and answered, trying to sound normal, “We couldn’t have that.”  
“Of course not,” Seb paused slightly then said, “Hey, Harry, I was wondering…”  
“Yeah?” Harry questioned.  
“Would you like to get a tea or something sometime? I’ve had more trouble than   
I’d like to admit finding a good mate lately and you were kind to me all week while you were working with Patrick,” Seb looked at him expectantly.  
Harry looked back at Seb, trying to figure out what he wanted. Many people he met only looked for friendship with him so that they could get in the Prophet for being associated with ‘The Chosen One’. Seb, however, had never seemed phased by the fact he was talking to Harry Potter. Maybe he was just a guy who needed some more good mates and Harry fit the bill. And Harry liked Seb a lot; he seemed like just the type of person Harry would be friends with.  
“That sounds great, Seb,” Harry answered, “Just let me know when.”  
Seb beamed. His eyes lit up in a way that was somehow familiar to Harry, although he couldn’t place how. Then Seb ran a hand through his blonde hair and it hit Harry: Seb reminded Harry of Draco. Not their personalities, persey; Draco was far too confusing and unpredictable to be compared to the sunny, easygoing aura of Seb. But they smiled in the same way when they were truly happy, as if nothing else mattered but the person they were talking to at the moment. Harry tried to shake off this thought. Was that really what he thought of Draco’s smile? Since when? He turned his attention back to Seb, who was now describing how excited he was to hug his mom after he was released from St. Mungos. Harry reasoned with himself; the reason he liked Seb was because he was kind and selfless, the exact type of person he was drawn to. It had nothing to do with the fact his smile was reminiscent of Draco’s.  
After about twenty minutes of talking to Seb, Harry had to cut him short in order to head back to his job. He made plans with Seb to meet for a tea the following week before the man walked away to go to a nurse he recognized from his time as a patient. Harry watched Seb rush over to the nurse and immediately embrace the surprised man in a hug. He laughed softly; Seb really was the brightest man he had ever met. Turning away, Harry made his way towards the third floor, where the trainees were scheduled to meet in five minutes. He was walking towards the lift when he spotted Draco standing near the entrance of the canteen, scanning the room intently as if he was looking for someone.  
Without any warning, Harry felt a sudden urge to run toward him and grab on to Draco. Just hold him, wrap his arms around him. All because Draco looked so serious in his attempt to look for who was no doubt Harry, most likely to talk about the investigation. Why else would he show up midday in what was without a question the most muggle outfit Harry had ever seen Draco in? He was in older looking jeans and a black t-shirt, which somehow looked laid-back and inexplicably regal at the same time. It was working almost too well for him. Harry tore his eyes and mind away from his unexpected evaluations and desires of Draco and made a quick attempt to leave the canteen, heart racing haphazardly. He was almost to the lift doors when he felt a shot of air beside him. He was soon standing directly beside, you guessed it, Draco Malfoy.  
“Harry!” Draco huffed. The use of his first name made Harry’s stomach lurch, “Didn’t you notice me? I’ve been making a fool of myself at the front of the canteen for minutes!”  
“No, I didn’t,” He said shortly, not daring to look at Draco. He didn’t know what was happening to him, but he knew looking at Draco would only make matters worse.   
“Okay?...” Draco looked at him quizzically, “Is something the matter?”  
“Yes!” Harry snapped, voice louder than he intended, “I’m at work! My break ends in a matter of minutes. I don’t have time to deal with your thoughts on the you-know-what every time you bloody feel like it! Some of us have an actual job!”  
Draco stared at him angrily for a few painful seconds, mouth agape. Harry was only looking at him out of the corner of his eye. The guilt of his last words was already washing over him.  
“Malfoy…” Harry started.   
“So I’m Malfoy now?” Draco snapped, “What the fuck is the matter with you? You are the one who wanted to be part of this! So I thought, naturally, that you’d want to help me tonight with an important stakeout,” he said this last part in an angry whisper, as people around them were trying to listen in on the argument, “But I can see you have plenty more important things to do, far more important than my lousy job, so I won’t stand in your way.”  
With that, he apparated into the air, leaving Harry alone and somehow upset with both himself and Malfoy at the same time.   
\---  
“Really?” Luna’s eyes lit up, “You mean it?”  
“Of course!” Lavender assured, reaching across the armchair to touch Luna’s arm, “Why wouldn’t we? All of you girls are our closest and oldest friends!”   
She addressed this last part to all the girls sitting in the apartment of Dean and Seamus, which included Padma, Luna, Hermione, Hannah, Angelina, Fleur and Ginny. Lavender and Parvati had just announced that they were getting married (Parvati had proposed) and needed enough bridesmaids to fill a two-bride quota. They had told the room that they were planning on making every girl there a part of the coveted bridal shower.  
“We would be honored!” Angelina chimed in, as the girls around the room chorused their own agreement.   
“And, of course, Padma will be my maid of honor and Lavender's sister Lila will be hers,” Parvati said, smiling over at her twin sister.  
“What if I say no?” Padma joked, “I don’t trust your taste in dresses.”  
Parvati pulled a face and said simply, “Then I’ll be forced to ask Seamus to fill the position. I’m sure he’d be honored.”  
Seamus leaped up, “I’ll take it! Paddy over here would be terrible.”  
Padma rose her eyebrows at him, “Like she would actually give the position to you. I’m her twin. It’s mandatory.”  
“As long as I give Parvati or Lavender away, I guess I’d be fine with not getting to be maid of honor,” Seamus looked at Parvati imploringly.  
“Sorry Seamus, but you are going to have to just come to the wedding,” Lavender said, “For some crazy reason, we thought of our parents giving us away before we thought of you and now it’s too late.”  
The whole group laughed at this as Seamus mocked offense. Luna and Hannah were already bubbling over what accessories they would wear to the wedding, to which Parvati and Lavender told them “anything goes.” Angelina was fighting with George over who would make a better bridesmaid (to be honest, Harry thought George could pull it off quite well). Harry was content with watching these conversations until a quidditch discussion sprung up next to him between Ginny, Ron and Seamus, in which Harry joined in to discuss the Cannons constant improvement under Ginny’s watch.   
“I still don’t want to place any bets,” Seamus glanced wearily over at Angelina, who was now talking with Bill and Lavender, “But I do think the Cannons will win. Don’t tell Angie. Blaise thinks so too,” he added as an afterthought, as if that confirmed the merit of his statement.  
Ginny looked pleased at this statement but didn’t say anything. This gave Ron a chance to jump in, “I hardly think Blaise’s opinion will make or break the match.”  
“He’s Head of Games and Sports, Ron,” Ginny pointed out rather fiercely, “I think his opinions are something to pay attention to.”   
“Alright, Gin, I understand,” Ron said pointedly, “But I don’t think we should all fawn over him, that’s all.”  
“No one’s fawning!” Ginny snapped, as Seamus said, “He’s marvelous, of course I’ll fawn over him!”  
Dean turned around at this statement, “And you are all talking about me, I suppose? The man married to you?”  
Seamus laughed and gave his husband a kiss on the cheek, “No, darling, but I still fawn over you the most. We’re talking about Blaise.”  
Dean rolled his eyes, “I should’ve guessed,” With that, he turned back to Hermione as if nothing had happened.  
“He knows my fawning is purely friend-based,” Seamus explained. The group laughed.   
“And I’m not the only one with an ex-Slytherin best friend, now am I?” Seamus asked, looking at Harry.  
Harry froze with the margarita he was drinking in hand. Ginny and Ron followed Seamus’s gaze to Harry, confusion written across their faces.  
“What are you talking about, mate?” Ron questioned.  
“Draco Malfoy, of course! Apparently he and Harry have been getting along quite fine as of late,” Seamus explained as if it were common knowledge, “Although I’m not sure what you said to him, mate. Blaise said he was almost livid with you the last time he talked to Malfoy.”  
Harry ignored Ginny’s and Ron’s looks of shock as he processed what Seamus had said. Draco was livid? He wondered desperately how whatever stakeout that Draco had been talking about went. Their fight near the lift had happened only two days prior. Harry hadn’t talked to Draco since then, not knowing what to say or think after his outburst. Now he wondered worriedly what Draco was mad about; just him being a prat, or the investigation? Or both? Or the fact Harry wasn’t there to help him? He should have called, he should have helped. He felt selfish, disloyal. But now, as he looked at the still shocked faces of Ginny and Ron, he also felt ashamed.   
“What the bloody hell?” Ron accused, “You’re friends with Draco? Since when? The last time I checked you were bloody livid to have an interview with him?”  
“Was I ever livid?” Harry asked faintly, catching Ginny’s silent accusations and confusion as he looked at her momentarily.   
“I thought so!” Ron exclaimed, “I thought you didn’t believe the whole ‘he’s changed’ mantra everyone has been saying!”  
“He has changed,” Seamus stated.  
“Shut it, Seamus!” Ron snapped.  
“Ron,” Harry said hesitantly, “Draco is a good person, who has changed. We are just friends. We get tea sometimes. That’s all.”  
“Then why hide it?” Ron questioned, still angry.  
“I have the same question,” Ginny asked stoically, looking straight at Harry.   
Seamus looked from Ron to Ginny to Harry, “I’m sorry, mate,” he said to Harry, “I didn’t know this was a secret.”  
“It’s not a secret!” Harry insisted, “We haven’t even been friends for that long! I just haven’t mentioned it because of these precise reactions.”  
“Well, it seems like you and Draco are the best of mates,” Ron said loudly, “If you’re on a bloody first name basis!”  
The rest of the room broke off their chatter slowly as they turned to look at Ron.  
“What’s the yelling for?” Luna asked Ron and Harry calmly.  
“Harry’s best mates with Draco Malfoy,” Ginny said matter of factly.  
Harry sent her a side glare and watched as the room broke into confused questions. He reexplained to everyone how Draco was a decent bloke with good intentions and that they were just friends.  
“I told you he was tolerable now,” Padma said proudly, looking at Ron, “And you told me it wasn’t possible!”  
“I’m still not sure that it is!” Ron argued, “At what point did it become okay to be chummy with the entirety of the Slytherin house!”  
“Ron,” Hermione chided, “being in Slytherin does not make you a bad person! What if Rose was in Slytherin? What would you say then?”  
“I would bloody disown her,” Ron mumbled, wincing as Hermione sent a fierce glare his way.  
“No, you would not!” she argued, “Slytherin is not a life-long sentence of evil! I now know plenty of people who are Slytherin and are nothing but kind and gracious, while also possessing the cunning and power-seeking qualities that define the Slytherin house. Power can be held for good reasons, Ron.”  
Ron nodded but did not look convinced. He still wouldn't look at Harry.  
“Well, I for one think that people can change,” Luna said airily, “Remember when Lavender and Parvati were mean to me? Now they want me as one of their bridesmaids!”   
With that, the room sloped away from the topic of Draco Malfoy and back into the wedding planning of Parvati and Lavender. Grateful for the distraction, Harry mentally prepared to make up with Ginny, Ron and Draco later. If he ever figured out what to say to them, of course.


	6. Chapter 6

The bright early morning sun was streaming through the curtains in Harry’s bedroom, making it impossible for him to go back to sleep. He chose to sit up in bed, head propped against his three pillows as he replayed the previous night at Dean and Seamus’s apartment in his head. Seamus had told Harry that Draco was not only upset over their argument, but upset enough to tell Blaise about it. Draco obviously valued their friendship to some degree, perhaps more than Harry had thought. Sure, there were plenty of times, like last Sunday, when Draco had told Harry to come to the park just so he could run his thoughts by him. But there were other times where Draco seemed still reluctant to share information with Harry, as if it cost him too much to share everything with him. Harry knew they had created a friendship of sorts, but he didn’t know how Draco regarded that friendship. Then again, Draco had agreed to call Harry by his first name, something Harry couldn’t have envisioned in his wildest dreams. The event was so momentous Harry could hardly believe he had basically forced Draco to call him Harry the week before. Maybe it all goes to show they have created a legitimate friendship that either of them knew how to handle. That, Harry reasoned with himself, is why he felt a strange feeling to hug Draco the other day. The two had formed an unlikely friendship that neither was prepared to handle. They actually cared about each other no. There wasn’t any way for that not to be weird, right?  
Harry gave a small sigh of relief. That made things easier. He just needed to accept that he and Draco were now friends, and partners of sorts. Harry could go and talk to Draco today and apologize for being a git and ask how the stakeout went. Harry was just about dying in anticipation. Although Harry didn’t know what Draco had been staking-out, Harry could tell Draco had been beyond excited about it. He felt pangs of guilt as he pictured Draco alone, somewhere dark and vacant, searching for potential members of Kareach while Harry had been sulking at home. Harry needed to make his allegiance to the investigation clear and get past whatever awkwardness came with their new friendship. He had been feeling more alive in the past couple weeks than he had in months, maybe years. Even his job, despite how boring some training activities could get, seemed brighter, more purposeful. He loved to heal; he never regretted leaving the Aurors. But he did regret leaving the Imperius attacks behind without a strong lead or substantial evidence. This partnership with Draco was the way to do that. Harry decided that he would talk to Draco immediately after training today.  
Glancing at the time, he realized it was almost six o’clock, mere minutes before Ginny’s alarm would go off. He glanced down at his wife, who was sprawled out next to him with her face smashed deep into her pillow. Last night he had been expecting her to tell him off for the now clear lying he had been doing for months as he met with Draco, but she hadn’t. After putting their kids to bed, Ginny had proclaimed she was tired and went to bed without another word (Ginny could fall asleep within seconds, it was one of her many talents). Harry had decided as he lay in bed last night that he would initiate a talk with Ginny this morning and explain everything firsthand. He wasn’t planning on mentioning Kareach or how frequently he and Draco met (he hoped she would believe some of the times he had truly met with fellow trainees) but he would tell her that he and Draco were friends. He wished he could tell her the full truth, but he knew that wouldn’t be fair to Draco.  
The alarm began to blare a Celestina Warbeck song (Ginny says her hatred of the artist motivates her to get out of bed and shut the bloody thing off. They had a muggle alarm clock that Ginny spelled so that it only can be shut off by hand, not magic. It’s the only way she can get up). Ginny’s head shot up a second later, as she is anything but a heavy sleeper. She sprang out of bed, red hair flying wildly behind her, and slammed her fist down on the clock.  
“I hate this fucking clock,” she mumbled fiercely, pulling her red hair into a messy pony tail and stalking to the bathroom.  
She shut the bathroom door without addressing Harry, sending a clear message of general unhappiness with him. Harry decided to wait in his room until she came out. He dressed in his green trainee scrubs and then sat on the bed to wait.  
Ginny came out minutes later in the all black outfit she wore under her quidditch robes. She raised her eyebrows at Harry when she spotted him waiting on the bed.  
“Why are you still up here? James has the field trip today and he has to be up early,” Ginny huffed as she moved across the room towards the door to the hallway.  
“Wait!” Harry half-shouted anxiously. Ginny looked back at him with an air of impatience.  
“Harry, I don’t really have another husband-wife ‘let’s not lie to one another’ talk in me right now,” she said matter of factly, “I’m not mad at you. I don’t care if you're friends with Draco Malfoy, and I understand why you didn’t want to tell me about it. Just don’t fucking lie anymore, and we’ll be fine. And also, if there is anything more to this story that Seamus didn’t blurt out last night, I’d love to know about it.”  
Harry shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.  
“Well,okay,” Ginny paused, “I love you, Harry. So much.”  
“I love you more, Gin,” Harry said, relief coursing through him, “And I’m sorry for being lousy.”  
“You aren’t lousy,” Ginny assured, a smile beginning to brighten her face, “But you will be if you don’t bloody wake up our son and get him ready for his field trip.”  
“Got it,” Harry sat up and moved to the door, giving Ginny a kiss on the cheek before she apparated to the quidditch pitch.   
\---  
Harry walked into his empty house and collapsed down on the living room couch. Healer Patrick had asked to work with him once again this week. This was, of course, an amazing thing that Harry was thrilled about. But it also meant Harry had spent the day trailing the fast-paced healer, barely stopping to breath before Patrick whisked him off to her next patient. Harry knew he would never work quite like her when he became a full-fledged healer. Yes, he would be quick and hopefully good at problem solving, but he would take more time with each of his patients. He couldn’t form bonds like Healer Patrick did: effortlessly and at a breakneck speed. But, Harry chided himself, there would be little opportunity for him to be a healer if the world was taken over by Kareach. With that gloomy image in mind, Harry rose and made his way over to his fireplace, nerves unexpectedly claiming his stomach.   
Ginny was still at practice (they were running longer and longer as they neared the tournament, which was now officially pitting the Cannons against Puddlemere United), and his kids were at Molly and Arthur’s for the evening. This left Harry plenty of time to crash whatever plans Draco had for the evening (which no doubt already involved Kareach) and ask him to take Harry back as his ally in eradicating Dark organizations. Now, Harry thought, that was a sentence he’d never could have imagined being anything but a ridiculous joke. Telling himself to focus, he grabbed a handful of floo powder and used his wand hand to light a fire. He then threw the powder into the fireplace and shouted ‘Draco’s apartment!” He stuck his head in and watched as a living area formed around him.  
Harry had never been inside Draco’s apartment. He had only assumed the wards would hold him, figuring Draco would want Harry to be able to contact him in case of an emergency. He looked around before yelling for Draco. The room was not exactly what Harry had envisioned, but he supposed he should have known by now never to assume anything about Draco Malfoy’s life. Two red couches sat facing the fireplace, accented by soft blue walls and matching red curtains. The floor was dark hardwood, with a cream carpet placed under the two couches. The room had more small knick-knacks than Harry could take in. Everything had some kind of decoration, from the dark coffee table between the two couches to the four shelves lining the walls. Harry spotted many things that indicated travel, from a large black and white globe to countless framed postcards. Being a reporter, a serious one, must have brought him to many places. Harry felt a strange sensation, which he realized was jealousy. Draco had a kid who adored him but still got to live the life he envisioned for himself, the one that shed the dark shadow his family had cast on him. Very few people Harry talked to thought of Draco as an ex-Death Eater anymore. He was just Draco Malfoy, a man who worked for the Prophet and could write a smashing article. Harry wondered where this change started in Draco and why he had yet to ask.   
Harry was busy counting the number of postcards from Cambodia (he had always wanted to go there), when a loud “fucking shit!” tore his eyes away from the walls and drew them to Draco. He had walked into the room, dressed in a soft white t-shirt and, no joke, fucking sweatpants. His hair was wet from what Harry guessed had been a shower, and it hung in strings across his face. Harry realized Draco was most likely looking for an explanation, so he said simply, “I was wondering if I could come through?”  
“I don’t know, are you planning on screaming at me again? Or is this not a public enough place?” Draco snapped, glaring at Harry.  
The glare sent a shiver up Harry’s spine that he quickly jotted down as guilt, “No, I’m done screaming. For the time being. You never know how our conversions will go.”  
His half-arsed attempt at a joke did not bring a smile to Draco’s face.  
“I’m sorry, Draco,” Harry said, forcing himself to look directly at Draco, “I was in a weird mood last Friday and I acted like a wanker when you came to Mungos. “  
“You think?” Draco added waspishly, “You bloody well told me that my job is unimportant.”  
“You know I don’t think that,” Harry said softly, “What you are doing now is far more important than anything I’ve done in a while.”  
“Where’s the cut off?” Draco said, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth, “When you killed Voldemort?”  
Harry laughed, “Yes, I suppose so. That was pretty fucking important.”  
Draco stared at him for a second, expressionless. Then he said forcefully, “Come through before I change my mind.”  
Harry did just that, going through the fire and standing in Draco’s living area seconds later. The effect of Draco’s apartment was amplified as he stood within it.  
“Have you really been to all these places?” Harry turned around to get a full look, “This room is amazing.”  
“I have,” Draco nodded, eyes brightening as he began to look around himself.  
Harry was about to ask about a rather stunning necklace sitting on a pillow, when Draco said, “So, where’s the rest of my apology?”  
Draco stared at Harry as he stammered, “I thought I…”   
“No ‘I’m sorry I left my partner alone to stakeout some Russian wizard all by himself’ or ‘I’m sorry I take three fucking days to get over myself in order to talk to you again, Draco’,” Draco said as if Harry had not spoken. He crossed his arms and fell gracefully onto one of his couches as he looked at Harry for an answer.   
“I thought you wouldn’t want to hear from me, Draco,” Harry confessed, “And if it’s any consolation, I’ve been feeling an immense amount of guilt all weekend thinking about you going on a stakeout for our investigation.”  
“I haven’t decided if it’s ‘our’ investigation again” Draco retorted matter-of-factly.   
“I’m sorry!” Harry nearly shouted, his anger rising, “I overreacted! But you cannot sit here and tell me you don’t want me to be a part of this investigation! You know I care, Draco. I was just being a prat for one day.”  
“Two days,” Draco piped in, a true smile forming on his lips.  
“Okay, two! Whatever. At least I’m not the fucking Prophet who won’t even take Kareach seriously anymore. Or the Aurors, who think it’s all silly rumors. I’m the only one who cares, who understands. So,” Harry paused as he realized Draco was bent over in laughter, “Why the fuck are you laughing?”   
“Because this whole fight is ridiculous and I’m just going to bloody tell you how the stakeout went before I explode,” Draco stated.  
“So… you’re not mad?” Harry asked wearily.   
“Of course I am,” Draco shook his head, “You are an incredibly annoying person to work with. But you’re all I’ve got.”  
“Well, thanks for that,” Harry muttered, trying not to laugh himself, “Now just tell me about the stakeout.”  
“There’s not really anything to tell,” Draco admitted bitterly, “It was all a dead end. I waited outside some Russian pub for hours and absolutely nothing happened. And I had the inside bugged so I would’ve heard if someone apparated in.”  
“Bugged?” Harry asked, “Like with a muggle microphone?”  
“Yes, of course,” Draco answered, “Dark Wizards of this prestige can detect magical ways of ‘bugging’ a room. But what they never anticipate is muggle technology, as they often believe anything muggles invent is pointless and far beneath them.”  
“But you don’t,” Harry muttered, partly in awe.  
“Obviously not. This isn’t Hogwarts Draco we’re dealing with,” Draco shuddered, as if the memory of his old self caused him physical disgust.  
“Anyway,” Draco continued, “While nothing came out of the stakeout, I do have important news. I believe members of Kareach, or one member, planted fake evidence connecting Russians and the pub to Kareach. I should’ve known the letter was far too unlikely to happen.”  
“Letter?” Harry asked urgently, “What letter?”  
“There was a letter left at one of the places we’ve visited frequently where we think Kareach activity is possible, the one near Yorkshire, you know?” Harry nodded and Draco continued, “It had been burned, but I was still able to use magic to piece together what it had said. It clearly mentioned the next ‘meeting’ was at a Russian pub on the outskirts of town. I jumped at the chance of it being real evidence, which was foolish.”  
“You weren’t foolish!” Harry insisted, “You would have been foolish to ignore it.”  
“No, I would be foolish to tarnish it with my magic and fingerprints when the culprit’s could have been all over it!” Draco exclaimed, “I should have recognized it as a decoy and preserved it immediately. Now it’s barely traceable.”  
Harry rolled his eyes, “Honestly, Draco, you did what anyone would have done in that situation. You can’t blame yourself for any of this. And if it was a decoy, whoever left the letter would have erased any evidence of themselves or their magic in case you did figure all of this out beforehand and want to test it.”  
“I should have tested it no matter what,” Draco said angrily, “Immediately! Everything I did, rushing off to you and then the pub, was all a rookie mistake!”  
“Stop,” Harry instructed forcefully, reaching over to Draco to grab his arm, “You are fucking brilliant at what you do. You will find Kareach, and I will help if it kills me. And I mean that promise. I once died.”  
Draco’s face broke into a reluctant smile at this, “You are the biggest idiot I have ever met.”  
“And you love it,” Harry joked.  
Draco laughed lightly then abruptly pulled his arm away from Harry, his eyes darkening. He looked down at his arm. Harry followed his gaze to the faded dark mark printed on the underside of his arm.  
Harry had never looked at the mark in the past couple months in which they had been friends. Draco wasn’t that man now; it wasn’t fair to search for the old parts of a boy long-forgotten. By now Draco was looking at it, his eyes dead set. Suddenly, he looked up at Harry, eyes slightly and unexpectedly red.   
“I knew it was you,” Draco barely mumbled. The statement made little sense in context of their lives now, but Harry in his gut knew Draco was talking about the day at Malfoy Manor when Draco had been “unable” to identify Harry.  
“I know,” Harry whispered back, looking at the floor.  
“I didn’t want him to have you. I thought I did, at first. But then I realized you were our hope. You were good in a world where nothing felt good anymore. So I couldn’t let him have you,” Draco said all of this to a space behind Harry on the wall.  
Harry didn’t want to ask, but he couldn’t stop himself, “What about the Room of Requirement?” he said this so quietly that he hoped maybe Draco didn’t hear.  
Draco looked up, face silently breaking, “I didn’t want you to die then either,” he hesitated, then whispered, “I would have prevented Crabbe and Goyle from getting to you. I wanted to mess things up. But Crabbe did that for me with the Fiendfyre.”  
Harry stared at Draco then, trying to read in his pale blue eyes if this was true, “Why?” he asked softly, not knowing what else to say.  
“You were hope,” Draco reiterated simply, “And my life was the opposite of hope.”   
Harry tried to think of what else to say when Draco spoke, louder and with more confidence than Harry had heard from him all evening, “I know you are wondering where this is all coming from. Truth be told, I have been meaning to tell you I’m so fucking sorry for who I was. For anything and everything I did to you as a kid. For being reckless, selfish. For aiding to the worst cause of all time. I’ve regretted everything I’ve done for most of my life. But I never have told you any of this, and I think I’ve needed to for years. You were the one that had to defeat him, and by working with him I made your life even more of a hell than it already was. I am so, so sorry for who I was.”  
Harry stared at Draco, who was now breathless and running an anxious hand through his hair. He felt numb, his whole body was cold. Draco had been living in remorse for nearly fifteen years and had spent all of his career making up for the person he had been. Harry felt a sudden surge of pride to be his friend, to get to know this new Draco, however confusing he might be.  
“Draco,” Harry said, reaching across the couch to envelope him in a hug. Draco was tense and clearly reluctant at first, but he soon gave in and let Harry hug him. Harry could feel him softly crying into Harry’s shoulder, and Harry let him. Harry caught a smell of Draco’s scent, a strong vanilla he now associated with the man, and he quickly pulled back, heart suddenly racing. Harry spiked his hair up with his fingers in a way that mirrored Draco and decided to look anywhere but the man in front of him. All he wanted to do now was apparate home and draw a bath and forget about liking Draco’s smell (it couldn’t mean anything, now could it?). But he couldn’t. He had something to say.  
“Draco,” he said louder than he planned, making Draco jump slightly beside him, “I’m sorry too. For a lot of things, but mainly for…” he trailed off, hoping Draco knew where he was going with this.  
Draco nodded stiffly, “I know it was an accident.”  
“I didn’t know what the spell did,” Harry supplied unnecessarily, “And I should never have begun to fight you straight away. And I should’ve helped better. I’m sorry.”  
“It’s okay,” Draco said softly, finally looking back at Harry.   
Harry nodded and looked down at his hands. Today couldn’t get any fucking stranger.   
Draco tapped him on the arm softly, “Want to talk about something else?”  
“Gladly.”  
\---

Ida and Harry watched idly as some man downed five consecutive shots of vodka and let out a loud chant that was echoed by his mates. Harry could see the obvious disgust in Ida’s face.  
“That’s how Aries got so wasted he told our Lola that she was ‘uglier than the average naked mole rat’” Ida commented disapprovingly.  
“Well, you have to admire the courage,” Harry quipped, “Not many people are able to call their own grandmother a naked mole rat. He was probably trying to get that off his chest for years.”  
Ida groaned, “He’s the absolute worst. If Puddlemere wins this tournament I will have to move out of England.”  
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “Aries will be far too unbearable. But let’s not forget Angelina and Oliver are still on Puddlemere. I don’t want to actively root against them.”  
Ida snorted, “Let’s not forget that your wife is the coach of the Chudley Cannons, Potter.”  
“I’m not rooting against Ginny!” Harry insisted, “I just want to support Ang too. She’s family.”  
“And you and Ginny aren’t on the best of terms?” Ida asked, concern written suddenly in her face. She turned abruptly as a chip thrown by the five-shots-of-vodka-man hit her on the back of the head.  
“Oi, watch where you throw that!” she shouted angrily, throwing one of her own chips square at his forehead. The man screamed with delight and began running wildly around the pub yelling “I’ve been compromised!”  
“‘Oi’?” Harry asked, “When did you become so British?”  
“Don’t change the topic,” Ida said fiercely, “Are you and Ginny fighting a lot? You seem on edge anytime I mention her. Does this have something to do with your friendship with Draco Malfoy?”  
Harry whipped around to face her, “How did you hear about that?”  
“I work in the same building as Seamus Finnigan,” Ida responded simply, “It was only a matter of time.”  
Harry rolled his eyes, “Well, yes… Draco and I are friends. But that has nothing to do with my and Ginny’s relationship! We are perfectly fine.”  
“Draco?” Ida questioned, “First name basis? Who are you?”  
“Why is everyone fixating on that?” Harry wondered desperately, “He’s my friend. It’s not the most insane thing that’s happened.”  
“I don’t know, Harry. I didn’t even go to Hogwarts and I still know in painstaking detail about all the times you fought with Malfoy or thought he was up to something,” Ida pointed out.  
“Yes, we hated each other,” Harry relented, “But things have changed. Actually, he apologized to me about everything that happened at school. Even all the Death Eater stuff,” he finished in a whisper.  
“He apologized for being a Death Eater?” Ida said alarmingly, “I always thought he was one of those ex-Death Eaters who would go back to their old ways as soon as they got the opportunity.”  
Harry looked at Ida in shock, “You did? Why?”  
She looked back at him with determination, “I know his family. Harry, my own family is one of the oldest pureblood families in the world, one of the only few virtually untouched by muggle blood. The Malfoys and the Blacks are also two of those families. Unlike us, they are beyond determined to keep this status. My father used to talk about how far they would go to insure their blood is pure and that muggleborns are eradicated. Not just lessened, eradicated. Their families are evil, Harry.”  
“I know that,” Harry murmured, “I faced many of them myself. But, does it really matter what someone is born into? Dumbledore once told me something about how people prove who they are when they grow up and separate from their family’s ideals. Malfoy has his own views now, which are quite the opposite of his parents.”  
Ida sighed, “Harry, as much as I would like to believe that, the family you are raised with has far too much influence on who you are for Malfoy to be a completely new person with no prejudiced views. Hate and ignorance just runs too deep.”  
Harry shook his head, “Ida, what in the world are you saying? You’ve always told me that you will never do what your parents want, that you are your own person. Now you’re saying Draco isn’t able to make his own decisions?”  
“Harry,” Ida said, grabbing on to his arm, “Of course I don’t want to say any of this. I want to believe Malfoy is good. But I wasn’t raised under the influence of prejudice and hatred. My parents let me make my own views and ideals from the time I was a young girl. I don’t rebel against their beliefs, just their expectations of me. They wanted me out of the Auror field, they thought it was no reasonable job for a young girl trying to make her way in a new society. I believe that people have the strength to make their own decisions and fight for what they want to do. But I just don’t think I can believe that Malfoy’s views he once clearly and openly shared with his parents are now all gone. Most likely he wants to re-establish his place in England as an admirable part of society. And, I’m sorry Harry, but you would be his best way to do that. You are the single most important person to most of England.”  
Harry felt numb, Ida’s words swirling around in his head. He had always taken Ida’s advice and opinions without a doubt, but this time he felt she was, well, wrong. Draco had done many terrible things in his past, but Harry could now understand the position he was in. Draco had been scared of dying, of losing his family. Voldemort wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him or his parents if any of their assignments had gone wrong. Harry had just seen the regret in Draco’s eyes; he had heard them in his words. Draco was smart, courageous, caring. He wanted to take down the Imperious attackers and seemed to be doing more than any of the Aurors were. None of that added up to Draco trying to win Harry’s friendship for the fame, the redemption. In Harry’s eyes, he had already redeemed himself.   
“Ida, I’m not going to stop being Draco’s friend. You can believe what you want, but I know your wrong,” Harry said confidently.  
Ida pursed her lips and looked away, “Ron agrees with me, you know. He feels you are crazy to think you have an actual friendship with him.”   
“That’s fucking fantastic,” Harry shot, “I’m glad you are both judging my life decisions behind my back.”  
“Harry, I just care about you! So does Ron! We were partners for almost nine years. I’m not going to let you put yourself into danger.”  
“Funny,” Harry retorted, “I’m pretty sure that’s what you let me do everyday.”  
Ida let out a small laugh at this, “I mean, it was the job,” she said softly.  
Harry laughed sharply, “I’m glad to know you think Draco is more dangerous than nine years of Auror work.”  
“I don’t,” Ida insisted, “But I don’t think you should put yourself in non-career related danger.”   
“Oh, Ida,” Harry said, “You know I will.”  
Ida laughed at this and waved a bartender over, “We are going to need some vodka shots,” she said determinedly. Turning to Harry, she said, “I can't stop you from being Malfoy’s friend. But I can stop you from leaving this pub without enjoying my company. Let’s not talk about this anymore.”  
“Okay,” Harry said hesitantly, grabbing a shot as the bartender slid it his was, “But let the record show I’m still going to be friends with Draco.”  
Ida said nothing, instead choosing to lean her head back and down her shot.  
\----  
“Potter, Shrout, Liner, Caser and Heisman, you’ll be on the Ground Floor,” Brayan instructed.  
Harry groaned inwardly. He had been hoping to be assigned to the Second Floor for the week with the hopes of spending more time under the tutelage of Healer Patrick. The Ground Floor dealt with artifact accidents, which covered injuries of things like broomsticks, wands, cauldrons and any other magical objects. Most of the time, the injuries sustained by Ground Floor patients were not magical in nature, including things like broken bones to head trauma. Harry liked the second and third floor better because the patients were recovering from injuries that would only be dealt with in the magical world. Seb’s dragon pox was a prime example.  
Realistically, though, he wasn’t going to get assigned to the second floor for every rotation. Part of training was exploring the five different floors and the opportunities that came with each of them. So Harry silenced his inner disappointments and made his way to the lift with Caser in tow.   
“This is fantastic!” Caser was saying, “I haven’t been assigned to the Ground Floor in weeks!”  
“Are you planning on working on the Ground Floor once we’re out of training?” Harry asked.   
“I think so. It seems like the best fit,” Caser confirmed, “I used to help Madam Pomfrey with quidditch accidents after matches, so I feel right at home.”  
“Madam Pomfrey let you help her?” Harry asked, amazed. Madam Pomfrey was the most self-sufficient witch he had ever met. She could cure any quidditch injury without batting an eye.   
“She said I had potential,” Caser said proudly, “And that she was willing to give me the experience, as I always knew I wanted to be a Healer.”  
“You must have been a bloody terrific student,” Harry commented, “My guess is Madam Pomfrey takes nothing but the best.”  
Caser smiled at this, “I worked hard. I knew I wanted to be a Healer ever since I was little. My mother being one and all. She always inspired me.”  
Harry smiled back and tried to ignore the small pang in his heart at Caser’s mention of his inspiration. He wished he had had parents to look up to and help influence his future decisions. Sometimes he felt so incapable of figuring out what to do with his life. Becoming a Healer was the first decision he felt that he really made for himself, and the choice had been more liberating than he could have ever imagined.  
“That’s incredible, Caser,” Harry said, “Your mother must be proud.”  
Caser shrugged, “Probably not. She’s barely stopped working ever since she took the job in Paris. I doubt she remembers she has a son.”  
Harry stared at Caser. There was a lingering sadness in his eyes that Harry hadn’t noticed before. So maybe Caser did have his mother to look up to while he was growing up. But he also dealt with an unspoken difficulty while his mother paid more attention to her profession than him. Harry, on the other hand, had endless love and support from friends and family. Harry had to remind himself that people’s lives can’t be based on who their family consisted of, but what their family consisted of.   
Harry was stopped from responding to Caser as a Healer came hurrying over to him and the rest of the group, who had filed into the main room of the Ground Floor.  
“Hello, trainees,” the Healer said briskly, “I have all of your assignments right here.”  
Harry waited until she called his name, then took the piece of paper from her. He almost doubled over in shock; he knew the two patients on his list! Written in thick black ink was ‘Blaise Zabini and Aries Reyes: Quidditch Accidents. Room 06 and 07’. He wondered what had landed Blaise and Aries in the hospital. Neither of them were quidditch players and they were unlikely to be found together if they could help it. Ginny had told him stories of how almost all of the Games and Sports Department couldn’t stand Aries. Maybe the accident wasn’t related, but Harry doubted the two coincidentally had quidditch accidents on the same morning. Harry desperately wished for a new assignment, as he didn’t want to see Blaise or Aries. Aries was a prat who would be miserable to deal with, and Blaise seemed like an awkward situation because he was so close with Draco. Harry didn’t need any more questions about his friendship with Draco, he was still barely processing it himself. But complaining was pointless; exceptions were only ever made if the trainees had too close of a relationship with the patients, and Harry hardly knew Blaise or Aries. Harry began to make his way to room 06, mentally preparing for a day of anger and awkwardness.  
Harry recognized a list of assignments on the door of room 06. Under the words ‘Aries Reyes’ were instructions on what to do to check up on the patient. As a trainee, Harry wasn’t in charge of healing the patient in any way. He could only help with that under the supervision of a Healer. For this rotation, he was in charge of checking up on patients after they had been healed but weren’t yet cleared to leave.  
Harry read the list and mentally prepared to do all the things asked of him. Then, bracing himself, he walked into the room.  
Aries Reyes was propped up on a bed in the center of the room. He looked nothing like a patient, except for his sling holding up his right arm. His shoulder length black hair was slicked back without a single hair out of place (it reminded Harry absently of Draco’s hair in first year) and he was wearing smart green robes. He was jotting notes on a clipboard with an outline of a quidditch pitch on it. Harry was surprised to see this level of commitment as the man laid on a hospital bed. From all Angelina had said about Reyes, Harry had assumed Oliver made most of the plans while Aries reaped the benefits of technically being the coach of a good quidditch team. Aries seemed focused and determined, something Harry thought impossible.  
As Harry made his way into the room. Aries head snapped up. He glared instantly, “You’re Ginerva’s husband,” his eyes narrowed threateningly.  
Despite how rude this was, Harry couldn’t help but appreciate being identified for being something other than ‘The Chosen One’. He doubted anyone had ever referred to him as ‘Ginerva’s husband’. But that could also be because Ginny would not hesitate to murder anyone who called her Ginerva.   
“Yes I am,” Harry said defiantly, “Is there a problem with that?”   
“Many,” Reyes looked pointedly at Harry, “Your wife is a stubborn, tactless woman who should not be allowed to coach quidditch.”  
Harry could feel his level of anger quickly rising. However, he was at work, and he couldn’t start a fight with one of his patients. He knew Aries knew that and would be trying to provoke him to get Harry into trouble. So Harry began to take Aries temperature and check his heart rate without another word while Aries sat with a smirk on his face. At least Aries wasn’t his cousin. He felt a pang of sympathy for Ida.   
“Oi, Potter,” Aries said as Harry was preparing to leave, “Send Zabini your love for me, eh?”  
Harry plastered a smile and said, “Everything looks fine, Mr. Reyes. I hope to see you at the quidditch match after party. I’m sure Ginny will appreciate you coming to congratulate her after the Cannon’s win. The press eats that stuff up.”  
Aries bristled silently as Harry walked out of the room with his head high. He hoped beyond hope that the Cannons would win, despite Angelina and Oliver being on Puddlemere. Aries needed to be taken down about fifty pegs.   
Harry made his way to the next room and read the note on the door. His instructions for Zabini were nearly identical to his instructions for Reyes. Their injuries were probably similar. Harry only knew that Aries had broken his arm from falling from a high altitude during quidditch. That left Harry to wonder whether Blaise had anything to do with it, but he hadn’t wanted to ask Reyes out of reluctance to talk to the prick anymore than he had to.   
Harry pushed open the door and began to say hello to Blaise, whose whole arm was in a cast, when he spotted Draco sitting at the side of Blaise’s bed. An angry feeling began to coarse through his body, one he couldn’t identify. Draco had looked as if he had been in the room for a long while; his coat, shoes and scarf were left in various places, and he had a stack of books next to himself. How good of friends were they? Why was this upsetting to Harry?  
“Hello,” Harry said, more shortly than he had anticipated. Draco gave him a confused look while Blaise boomed back, “Potter! Great to see you, mate!”  
Harry hadn’t properly talked to Blaise, well, ever. He hadn’t been expecting such gravitas from the man.   
“Thank goodness you are here!” Blaise said, “If I had to spend another moment with Draco here, I was going to lose my mind!’  
Draco laughed at this, “Ignore that, Harry. He likes to pretend he doesn’t need me.”  
Need him? Harry’s mind supplied unhelpfully. Were the rumors Seamus heard true? Were Draco and Blaise a couple? They were both queer, it was a possibility.  
Harry explained what he needed to check, carefully avoiding Draco’s gaze, as it made him feel he was on fire. What was happening to him?  
Deciding to distract himself, he asked Blaise, “What happened to your arm? I didn’t get any of the story from Reyes.”  
Blaise glowered, “Probably because he’s disgusting to talk to and you didn’t want to ask more than you had to?”  
Harry laughed; he was beginning to like Blaise’s boldness, despite himself, “Yes, that would be the reason. He immediately insulted my wife, so that wasn’t a joyride.”  
Blaise’s expression faltered at this, while Draco looked away. Harry wondered what he had said.  
“Anyway, what did happen?” Harry attempted to lessen the tension in the room, “Don’t tell me you agreed to a quidditch match with that prat?”  
“Unfortunately, I did,” Blaise said regretfully. He regained his confidence and laughed, “It was Seamus’s idea. Promote the match by showing a friendly competition between the Games and Sports employees, coaches, and players. Clearly the teams were mixed, because none of Games and Sports could win against any of those coaches or players.”  
“Except for Reyes,” Draco put in bitterly, “For the coach of one of the best teams in England, that man cannot play. Just watching him yesterday brought tears to my eyes.”  
“Because you were laughing so hard?” Blaise asked.  
“You know it. That one time he sent the bludger into the stands and hit Gonga’s wife? Priceless,” Draco joked. Harry watched the two laugh easily with each other. And Draco was at the match. Harry hadn’t even known about it, and there was no way Ginny hadn’t been there playing. She hadn’t even mentioned Blaise and Aries landing themselves in the hospital. But here was Draco, invited to Blaise’s match and spending the night by his side after his injury. The implications made Harry’s head spin.  
“So, the injury,” Blaise began as he gained his composure, “Reyes and I were on the same bloody team. I was a chaser and he was a beater. I quickly became fed up with him not protecting Ginny from the bludgers and I told him so. He was frustrated with me and decided to take out his frustration by nailing me directly in the arm with a bludger.”  
“What a wanker,” Harry stated.  
“My thoughts precisely,” Blaise agreed, “But I’m rather happy he decided to hit me. Because immediately after, he lost his balance, as no doubt he wasn’t used to making good shots, and fell and broke his arm.”  
“It was hilarious,” Draco added, “I’m planning on dedicating a good two paragraphs to it in my article.”  
“An article!” Harry blurted. Draco and Blaise shot him an alarmed look, “I mean, an article’s great! Show Reyes as a clear prat and bad quidditch player.”  
Relief was washing over Harry. So that’s why Draco was at the match! For his job. Another fluff piece.  
“Hopefully the Prophet will let me trash Reyes,” Draco said tartly, “The last time I had an article about him they refused to publish it because he donates so much to the Games and Sports Department.”  
“Only to prevent anything bad from getting out about him!” Blaise snapped, “We could bloody get on without his cover-up money!”  
“Well, I hope that works out. It’s an important thing, preventing prats like him from skating by,” Harry directed his words to Draco, trying to convey he felt this could be more than a fluff piece.  
Draco nodded, while Blaise piped up, “So I’m good to go? Because I need to get the hell out of this hospital. No offense or anything. I’m sure your job is fun.”  
Harry laughed, “None taken. Everything looks good Blaise, but I can’t clear you to leave, as I’m only a trainee.”  
“Alright, alright,” Blaise said. He looked from Harry to Draco and looked as though he was going to say something, but Draco shot him a fierce look. He stopped and simply said thank you to Harry. Harry walked to the door, looking back silently to see Blaise grasp Draco’s hand. A shock shot through him. Harry abruptly left the room and closed the door behind him.  
\---  
“Earth to Harry,” Dean waved a chip in front of his eyes, “What’s going on? You’ve been barely listening to me all break.”  
“Sorry, Dean,” Harry muttered, forcing himself to look into the eyes of his concerned friend, “I just had a rough rotation. I am listening.”  
“Then what did Seamus tell me last night?” Dean challenged.  
“That he loved you?” Harry guessed sheepishly.  
“He tells me that every night,” Dean boasted jokingly, “Why would I tell you that? He told me that Aries fell off his broomstick during a friendly quidditch match. Serves him right. That’s going to be embarrassing when it hits the presses.”  
Harry gave a stiff laugh, “I was actually just down on the Ground Floor today. Both Reyes and Zabini are in the hospital.”  
“No way!” Dean exclaimed, “That’s why you’re in a bad mood! Reyes must be the worst patient.”  
“He was. I had to fight back my angry retorts after he insulted Ginny,” Harry said, hoping to convey this was the main reason he was upset. Not the fact that Draco and Blaise were probably more than friends and there was nothing he could do about it or about the fact that he cared for some reason. I mean, he didn’t like… no, he didn’t. He was straight. He was married. End of internal discussion.  
Dean picked up his slice of blueberry pie and took a bite, “I still can’t believe he’s allowed to coach a team with Angelina Johnson on it. She is far too good for him.”  
“I couldn’t agree more,” Harry concurred. He looked down at his own peach pie, “Since when do they have blueberry pie?”  
“Since always?” Dean said, taking a large bite.  
“I meant they didn’t have any today. And I went up before you,” Harry remembered the only options being peach and cherry.  
“Weird. Want some?” Dean began to slide the pie towards Harry.  
He looked longingly at the pie, “If you don’t mind.”  
Harry reached for his fork and thanked Dean. He looked up to tell Dean his ranking of the canteen pie flavors, when he noticed Dean was staring at him absently, his eyes glazed over.  
“Dean?” Harry asked worriedly, reaching across the table to touch his friend. Suddenly, Dean fell sideways out of his chair, twitching violently and flailing on the canteen floor.   
Shock was quickly replaced by action as Harry shot up. He recognized the telltale signs of the poison from the Imperius attacks. Dean was a victim.   
The room erupted in bouts of shocks and screams. Harry pointed his wand at his throat and said Sonorus to magnify his voice, “No one eat anything!” he yelled. He bent down to try and help Dean, but there wasn’t much he could do as an inexperienced trainee. Around the room, shouts rang as more muggleborns collapsed. Commotion was thick as he racked his brain for any available spells to keep Dean alive. He was keeping his panic internalized. What mattered now was his friend.   
Dean’s flailing was subsiding as Harry muttered spell after spell. He kept his hand steady and his mind focused. Despite his efforts, he could feel Dean suddenly getting worse. Dean’s whole body began to shake violently. Harry began to shout out for help, hoping for a more experienced Healer to swoop in and take over.  
“Move, Harry,” a strong voice commanded. Harry looked up to see Healer Patrick, her face set determinedly as she began to cast spells on Dean. He watched as Dean’s flailing subsided enough for Healer Patrick to use the levitation charm to move him up off the floor and out of the canteen.  
Harry watched for a second, relief finding him like an old friend. Dean would be fine with Healer Patrick, he was sure of it. He watched them for a second and then hurried to see who else he could help. He moved to help another trainee control a healer having a seizure when Draco appeared next to him. Harry refused to let himself focus on anything but the man having the seizure as Draco helped with his own spells. Draco had been studying the Imperius attacks for so long that he no doubt knew exactly how to help. The man began to stop flailing, just as a Healer came and leivitated him away. Harry now looked at Draco, who was frantically searching for another person to help, desperation in his eyes. Then all of a sudden Draco was gone. Everything was gone. The room had gone dark, so dark he couldn’t see his own hands in front of him. Then, as suddenly as the lights went out, flashes of green began to head towards them. Harry used the brief flashes of light to see Draco and push him to the ground. Harry’s whole body was stricken with terror as the green lights continued to flash over him.   
“Lumos,” Draco murmured from beneath him. Harry knew this was a bad idea as soon as it happened; there was no doubt in his mind that the killing curses were meant for Draco.   
Sure enough, a masked figure appeared in front of Harry and Draco, wand pointed at Draco’s face. Harry acted quickly, years of Auror training paying off, “Stupefy!” Harry shouted at the masked figure. They collapsed, and Harry moved into action, using his extreme knowledge of shield charms to build a barrier around him and Draco. The green lights began to bounce off an invisible barrier.   
Draco sat up beside him, “We need to help!” he said urgently. Harry grabbed the wand from his hand instantly. Draco bristled but Harry put a quick shield between them before he could grab his wand back.  
“Draco, they’re trying to kill you!” he whispered fiercely as sounds of yelling and fighting commenced around them, “Did you see how many killing curses were shot at us immediately? It’s a miracle we are alive! I can’t let you leave this shield!”  
“It’s Kareach, Harry!” Draco snapped, “I need to help!”  
Draco narrowed his eyes and Harry could feel the shield between them disappear. Harry hadn’t been expecting this high level of wandless magic. Draco grabbed his wand and began to remove the shield surrounding them.   
Harry was shouting desperately as Draco began firing spells at more masked figures. The killing spells had lessened, as the masked figures had thought Draco and Harry would be untouchable for the duration of the fight and were coming up with ways to end their shield. This now worked in Draco’s favor, as he used spell after spell to take down masked figures. Harry jumped up and followed him, fully recognizing Draco couldn’t fight all of them off forever. Harry didn’t think the Aurors were here. Draco was alone and Harry needed to save him.  
Almost immediately, Harry came into contact with a masked figure after leaving his spot on the ground. The two battled; the figure didn’t seem like they were aiming to kill, just to stop Harry from going near Draco. He eventually ended him with a strong Petrificus Totalus and wove his way around chairs, still struggling to see despite all the light from wands. Then he saw Draco, illuminated by the wand light of his duel with another masked figure. As if in slow motion, Harry spotted another figure behind Draco, wand pointed directly at his back…  
Without thinking, Harry dove through the air in front of the spell.


	7. Chapter 7

“Harry?...” the words sounded far away, distant, as if they were being said through water. But Harry knew that voice. It was Ron. But why was Ron there? Wasn’t Harry at work?  
Harry slowly opened his eyes, bright lights obstructing his vision as he tried to place his surroundings. Ron materialized in front of him, all red hair and freckles. Harry then saw Ron’s dark Auror robes and everything that happened came rushing back to him. He shot up quickly and frantically looked around.  
“Where’s Draco?” he demanded abruptly, grabbing on to the front of Ron’s robes, “Is he alive?”  
The words felt cold in his mouth as he stared at Ron for conformation. Ron looked taken aback at Harry’s sudden conscious demands. Harry was about to ask again when Ron enveloped him in a hug.  
“I thought you were dead, Harry,” he murmured into Harry’s shoulder, “When Ida told me you were hit by a spell, I thought the worst until she confirmed it was only a stunning spell.”  
“Ron…” Harry tried again, pulling Ron back to arms length, “I need to know if Draco is okay. He ran into the thick of about a dozen killing spells.”  
Ron patted him on the shoulder, “Mate, he’s fine. He’s giving a statement as we speak.”  
Harry felt the cold of his dread be replaced by a warm feeling of comfort. Draco was fine. Harry had been willing to risk his life to ensure that. Harry remembered the events of the attack as if through a bad dream. He had seen the spell being fired at Draco and he had acted without thinking. He cared about Draco in a way he had suspected for a long time. There had been so many signs throughout the years… he had pushed back any sense of attraction to males for so long that he didn’t know how to deal with it now. But now he felt exposed, open; he liked Draco. He was falling for Draco. He was the most confusing and complicated man Harry had ever met, but he loved that. Harry loved his passion, his bravery, his graciousness, even his stubbornness. Harry liked blokes. Well, he liked one bloke. One that happened to be Draco fucking Malfoy.  
Ron was giving him a strange look as they sat in silence.   
“Harry?” Ron asked, “How were you hit by a spell?”   
By the way he asked, Harry knew Ron already guessed how. Harry felt his face heat up slightly as he ran his hand over the back of his neck.   
“I… jumped in front of it. To protect Draco,” he looked up at Ron, fearing the worst.  
“Harry,” Ron whispered, “You could have died.”  
“I know,” he said solemnly, “It’s what I do for friends.”  
Ron nodded. Harry wondered what he was thinking, whether he was still mad at Harry for being Draco’s friend.   
“Let’s get you over to the rest,” Ron said, “They’ll want to see you.”   
Harry nodded and let Ron help him stand up, head still spinning slightly from the stunning spell. Once he was steady, Ron led him over to a group of Aurors standing at the front of the canteen. They were casting spells and bagging evidence in stoic silence, the events of the attack weighing heavily on them.   
“Oi,” Ron said softly to them, “Harry’s awake.”  
Harry watched as the entire group stopped what they were doing and came over to see him. He was first embraced by Ida and Padma, followed by a rib-crushing hug from Aviary.  
“Harry, we are so relieved it was only a stunning spell,” Aviary addressed him first. Although the two didn’t know each other well, Harry could tell she had been as worried as the rest of them by the clear relief in her face, “It’s a miracle, frankly. The attackers were aiming to kill.”  
Ida nodded, sorrow enrapturing her features, “It’s true. This was the most vicious attack we’ve had yet.”  
“Don’t tell him that!” Ron chided, “He’s only just regained consciousness!”  
“No, don’t worry, Ron,” Harry maintained, “I want to know everything.”  
Padma and Ron exchanged looks, “We had twenty casualties,” Padma said heavily, tears shining on the corners of her eyes, “One of them being my cousin.”  
“Oh, Padma!” Harry cried. Padma’s cousin Rana worked at the hospital as a healer. He wrapped Padma in another hug. She began to shake as she cried softly into his shoulder. In the twenty plus years he had known her, he had only seen her cry twice. Padma was never someone who led with her emotions, especially while on the job. He remembered all the stories she had told of her cousin and he felt guilt streaming through him. He could have done more.   
“Harry,” Padma admonished softly as she pulled away, “Don’t you dare blame yourself. I know what you’re thinking, but you did all you could when fifty killing curses were being fired at you. Both you and Draco performed courageously. There’s nothing any of us could have done.”  
“That’s not true,” Ida whispered, “We could have gotten here sooner.”  
The five of them stood in silence at Ida’s words. Harry wondered how long the Healers in the canteen were forced to fight before someone notified the Aurors. He wondered if Kareach did anything to the rest of the building that prevented them from contacting the Ministry, like altering the apparation wards or the floo network. Whatever it was, twenty casualties was a lot. And that was in a hospital. Who knew what Kareach was capable of if an attack in a hospital led to the death of twenty people.  
The dreadful silence was broken by the approach of Healer Brayan and Auror Savant.  
“Potter!” Brayan shouted, running over to Harry and giving him an unexpected hug, “We are so glad you are alive! I was just with Draco Malfoy, and he said you were hit by what could have been a killing curse. I was besides myself with worry.”  
“As was I, Potter,” Auror Savant patted Harry on the shoulder as he talked, “That was true bravery you showed today. It makes me wonder why you ever left us.”  
Harry watched as Brayan raised his eyebrows at this, no doubt feeling that Savant was trying to get Harry back as an Auror.  
“Harry is fine where he is. He’s an excellent trainee,” Brayan attested.  
“Not as good as he was as an Auror,” Servant countered confidently, “His natural instinct to be calm and productive in a moment of threat is all Auror.”  
“Actually,” Brayan corrected, “It’s all Healer. Healing is all about staying calm and productive in the face of death.”  
“Auror Savant,” Harry interrupted wearily before this got out of hand. The Aurors around them were watching with silent interest, “I am going to remain a trainee for the time being. It’s the job I need to do right now.”   
That, Harry thought, and doing anything to help Draco solve his investigation.   
“Noted,” Healer Savant said briskly. He looked around at the Aurors, “I’m not paying you to stand around! We have a crime scene to finish!”  
With that, he walked away to address another group of Aurors standing near the kitchen.  
Harry turned now to Healer Brayan, “Do you have any idea where Draco is? I need to talk to him.”  
“He was still talking to Nott the last time I checked,” Brayan answered.  
Harry nodded and looked desperately towards the conference rooms, hoping to see Draco emerge.   
“We are going to need your statement, too, Harry,” Ida said. Her arm was now wrapped around Padma, who was sniffling silently. Aviary and Ron had begun to bag evidence again.   
“Not right now, you don’t,” came a frantic voice from behind Harry. He turned around and was immediately confronted by a thick scent of strawberries and a face full of bright red hair.   
Ginny pulled back, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was still in her quidditch robes; she must have come straight from practice. Her hair was unkempt and sticking out around her face and her eyes were emblazoned in a fear Harry hadn’t seen in years. He felt relieved to see her, but guilt was slowing forming under his skin. Here she was, worried and desperate to make sure he was okay, and he had been coming to the realization that he had a crush on Draco Malfoy.   
“I would have been here sooner,” she said frantically, “But no one notified the team. Ron only called minutes ago!”  
“Sorry,” Ron said sheepishly from behind Harry, “A lot on my mind.”  
Ginny moved over to swat him, revealing a red-eyed Hermione.   
“Oh, Harry!” she exclaimed, wrapping him in her own hug, “I’m so glad you are alright!”  
“Yes, and speaking of people who are alight, where is Dean?” Ginny said from Harry’s side. She placed a hand on Harry’s arm.   
“Yes!” Harry looked at Ron, suddenly remembering the event that had started all of this, “So he’s fine? I need to see him!”  
“But…” Ida intercepted.  
“Ida, we will take Harry’s statement after he sees Dean. He deserves to see he’s alright for himself,” Ron turned to Aviary, “Av, could you and Remmins take his statement? Since Youll is out of commission, he’ll need someone to take the statement with him.”  
Aviary nodded, “I’ll go and find him.”  
“Youll?” Harry asked.  
“Remmins's new partner. He was injured in the attack,” Ron said stiffly, “Fine bloke. Don’t know if he’ll make it.”  
Harry shuddered at the thought. The idea of losing any other innocent people made his body stiff with anger and fear.   
He began to follow Ron to the lift to visit Dean’s hospital room. He held onto Ginny’s hand, trying to control his shaking. Dean almost died because he was a muggleborn. Yet he was one of the best healers on his floor. He was hardworking and contributed so much to this hospital. The thought that people believed all that was irrelevant due to his blood status was revolting. It was an ignorance that Harry had helped destroy, but never fully eradicated. He wondered if the wizarding world would ever be void of the terrors of prejudice.   
“Here it is,” Ron said softly after stopping in front of a hospital room door. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny followed him in. Dean was lying on the white bed in the center of the room, reminiscent of Aries and Blaise only hours earlier, but far more tragic. He was sleeping softly. Seamus was sitting in the chair next to the bed, his hand interwoven with Dean’s as he stared done at the man in question. At the sound of the four pairs of feet against the hard floor, Seamus looked up. His eyes were red and glassy, but a smile broke out on his face when he recognized his friends.  
“Hello, everybody,” he whispered.  
“Oh, Seamus,” Hermione said, a parallel of her address to Harry minutes before. Hermione crossed the room and embraced him, letting him cry into her shoulder.   
The rest of them stood near the edge of Dean’s bed, holding onto each other. Dean looked like all the patients post- poison-- frail and tired, skin tinged with an odd orange that could be seen even with Dean’s dark complexion. The terrors of the attacks felt stronger than they had ever before as he looked at Dean. It was bad enough knowing innocent muggles were victims to their merciless attacks. Now one of his closest friends was lying weak on a hospital bed, when he should be out there helping victims. Harry began to shake uncontrollably. He reached for Ginny and she hugged him again, murmuring soft words in his ear. He needed to protect them. All of his friends, family. No other muggleborns or purebloods trying to help would die on his watch. He may not be an Auror any more, but he had Draco. He was going to help if it was the last thing he did.   
The four of them stayed for about ten minutes. Healer Patrick had told Seamus that Dean would make a full recovery, but that he was going to remain in a deep sleep for at least a day. Hermione tried to talk Seamus into taking a break and getting a tea, but he refused to leave Dean’s side. She instead went to the canteen and returned minutes later with a tea, in which Seamus gulped down speedily. As they made to leave, Hermione and Ginny decided to stay behind with Seamus for a while, so only Ron and Harry left the room.   
“They're expecting you,” Ron murmured to Harry as they closed the door behind them, “I’m going to go and check on Padma. Rana meant so much to her. I feel like a bloody awful Auror and friend.”  
Harry gave him a quizzical look, “Ron, it isn’t your fault. You and the rest of the Aurors did everything you could.”  
Ron shook his head, “You don’t understand. I was standing near Rana. He was fighting too. I didn’t see the person sneak up behind him. If I had been paying attention, I would have saved him.”  
“Ron…” Harry said softly, “There were about a hundred things happening in the canteen at once. You were paying attention, and you were doing your job. Do not blame yourself.”  
Ron looked at him, tears in his eyes, “What if Malfoy had died? Would you not blame yourself?”  
Harry stared back at Ron in a stunned silence. Ron was right. If Draco had died, Harry would never have forgiven himself.   
“I…” he started, then paused. Ron nodded, then began to make his way towards the lift.   
\---

As he made his way back to the canteen, his mind was spinning rapidly. He figured Draco would be up in the conference rooms, and the idea made him both excited and anxious. He needed to see Draco again, make sure for himself that he was alright. But he also didn’t know how to face him. Not after he had acknowledged actual feelings for him. Harry was suddenly bursting with a need to get his sexuality off his chest. He wasn’t straight. He never was. He wished he could have figured this out years ago, when almost all his fellow Gryffindors were announcing their own sexualities. Dating and marrying Ginny is what had made sense to him at the time. She was an incredible woman and was from a family he knew and loved. The two of them being together had seemed non-negotiable in his mind for years. So he had ignored, for so long, any implications that he was anything but attracted to women, anything but attracted to Ginny. His sudden bouts of anger with Draco, his uncontrollable desires towards him, all began to make sense. Harry felt dizzy as he made his way off the lift and to the conference rooms. Remmins was waiting outside the door of conference room C, and waved Harry over when he saw him. Harry began to look frantically for Draco as he walked towards the door, but he was nowhere to be found. He told himself to snap out of it. What mattered now was the statement, and he was sure Draco would agree.   
“Harry!” Remmins called groggily. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, “We are ready for you!”  
Remmins was an Auror that had been working at the Ministry for about a year or so now. Harry had never gotten to know him well, as they were far apart in age and experience. Remmins was known for being a hard worker who could be a bit clumsy at times (there was one time he was almost killed on a stakeout when he tripped over his untied shoelace). For this, and multiple other, mishaps, he had often been overlooked in the past. Harry was glad to see Ron was trusting him with doing the interviews.   
Harry patted Remmins shoulder as he moved towards the door, “How are you doing, Gani?” Harry asked.   
Remmins shook his head. He was clearly trying to fight back tears as he nearly whispered, “I’m not sure my partner is going to make it. His name is Hector Youll. You would have liked him, Harry. He was a great guy.”  
Harry reached over to give Remmins a hug. Remmins stiffened; Harry wasn’t sure they had ever been close enough to hug in their time together as Aurors. But then Remmins fell into the hug, sobbing loudly into his shoulder. Harry let him. When he was an Auror, sometimes all he wanted was for someone to hold him close and remind him there was still some good in the world.   
The door opened behind them and Aviary appeared.   
“Oh, you all,” she shook her head, refusing to let herself cry, “Gan, Hector will be fine. I know it.”  
“You don’t know that!” Remmins moved out of Harry’s embrace to shout at Aviary, “Av, you just don’t! I know you want to make me feel better, but you can’t. My partner and friend could die, and that’s something I have to deal with”  
“Gani!” Aviary insisted, grabbing onto his arm, “The best healers in Mungos are helping him! If anyone could revive Hector, it’s them. I just want you to hold out hope.”  
“You always value hope above reality, Aviary,” Remmins spoke angrily, “And that’s why I fell in love with you! But it’s not always what I need!”  
Harry raised his eyebrows as Aviary gasped.  
“You love me?” she asked quietly.  
“Of course!” Remmins nearly shouted.  
A moment passed and then the two came together in a passionate kiss. Harry turned away, not wanting to be an interlude to the moment. He wondered when this had begun. A numbness settled over him as he silently wished he had the bravery to confess his own feelings for Draco. What if the time was never? What if his crush was pointless and Draco already loved Blaise? What if he never possessed the strength to tell Ginny they weren’t right for each, that he needed someone that made him feel like there was fire building in his lungs? All of this came suddenly to Harry and he could barely breathe. He couldn’t leave Ginny. Was that the solution? It couldn’t be. He would have to ignore his feelings. He couldn’t hurt his kids, his family, or his wife.   
“Harry?” Aviary asked. She was holding tightly to his arm, “Are you okay?”  
Harry checked back into reality to find Aviary peering into his eyes. Remmins was still standing at his shoulder, a ghost of a smile now upon his face.  
“You two are a perfect couple,” he said softly, looking at both of them in turn.  
“Er, thanks,” Aviary answered, looking at Harry as if he was losing his mind. He supposed he was.   
“Let’s just get his statement done,” Remmins gestured towards the door, “We promise to keep it professional.”  
“Yeah,” Aviary agreed, “Listen, Harry, if we made you uncomfortable, we are sorry. We weren’t planning to snog right before your statement.”  
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, don’t worry,” Harry assured, “I’m just dealing with a lot at the moment.”  
“Aren’t we all,” Remmins murmured, holding open the door for Harry to go in.  
After he sat down, Aviary asked him to explain what had happened at the hospital earlier that day. Harry told them of how he had been eating with Dean when suddenly he fell onto the floor. He described his attempts to help, voice catching when he told them how Draco showed up to help. He then described how the room went dark. Harry tried to avoid anything that made it sound like his main goal was to help Draco; he had already seen Ron’s reaction to that, he didn’t need anymore questions about his relationship with Draco. After he finished his story, ending with how he was hit with a stunning spell, Aviary spoke again.  
“Harry, you were right about there being more than one attacker. When the Aurors arrived on the scene, we could clearly see the vast amount of killing curses being fired.”  
“So you think it’s Kareach?” Harry asked, locking eyes with Aviary.  
“Harry…” she trailed off as she noticed his sudden anger, “Don’t be mad! We have no proof to believe these rumors!”  
“It’s true, mate,” Remmins said solemnly, “We think it’s just people with a vendetta against muggles and muggleborns that are following out the once widespread beliefs of Voldemort.”  
“So, the very definition of Kareach?” Harry countered.  
“Harry,” Aviary began again, “The idea of Kareach is an organized cross-cultural society against muggleborns and muggles with an ultimate plan to eliminate them. That is a far cry from poisoning muggles.”  
“Not when they are trying to attack St. Mungos! Not when…” he paused. He was about to say “Not when they are targeting Draco!”, but that would involve him explaining why Draco would be a target of Kareach. That would reveal to the Aurors that Draco was indeed investigating something they not only believed was fake but knew the Prophet wanted him to drop. He decided to stop trying to convince Aviary and Remmins at the moment. They weren’t going to believe his evidence, and they weren’t going to accept Draco’s position on the case. As of now, both the Aurors and Draco and Harry needed to continue what they were doing and hope someone could find evidence that actually helped then stop the attacks. The more he thought about all of this, the more he thought about how much danger Draco could be in. He needed to see him, make sure he was safe.   
“Harry?” Aviary wondered, “Are you going to finish talking?’  
“No,” he shot from his seat, “I’ve said all I can. You have my statement.”  
“Harry!” Remmins demanded as Harry moved towards the door, “You can’t leave yet! You know how this works.”  
Harry paused and signed. He made his way back to the table regretfully and sat down.  
“Fine. Ask me more questions, get my signature. But I need you both to promise to stop making me feel like a fool for believing in Kareach.”  
“We didn’t mean to, Harry!” Aviary insisted, “We don’t think you are a fool.”  
Remmins nodded in agreement, “You were a fantastic Auror. We take your input seriously.”  
Harry snorted but said nothing. He continued to answer Aviary and Remmins’ questions, nervously tapping his foot the whole time. When they finally finished, he left quickly without a goodbye. He was walking down the hallway towards the canteen when he spotted Ida alone in conference room A.  
He stared at his friend for a second. This was someone who had stuck by him for almost nine years. She had seen him at his worst and at his best. She knew him better than almost anyone. He had an unexplainable urge that caused him to move through the doorway and announce without warning, “I’m not straight.”  
Ida looked up at Harry, “What?”   
“I’m not straight. I’ve never been. Maybe I’m gay, or bi, or pan, or something else. I don’t know yet. But I like blokes,” he rambled, looking to his friend for confirmation that this was okay. That he was still Harry.  
“Harry…” Ida trailed off. Then she began to laugh, “I know.”  
“What?” Harry stared at his friend, “No you don’t.”  
“Yes I do!” she insisted. Her laughter died down as she turned to look directly at him, “I always had a feeling. I mean, come on, I’ve had an expert ‘gay-dar’ ever since I was a teenager.”  
Harry shook his head, “Well, never mind, then.”  
Ida laughed softly and stood up. She moved toward him and wrapped him in a hug. Ida wasn’t much of a hugger, so the gesture surprised him.  
“It’s because of Seb, isn’t it?” she whispered.  
Harry pulled back abruptly from her arms, “What?”  
“Seb! The guy you’ve been going to tea with? You kept telling me how fun and easy-going he is. I knew there was something more going on when you wouldn’t shut up about him.”  
Harry froze. He and Seb had gone to get tea twice since they talked in the canteen. Harry had enjoyed himself and he had mentioned it to Ida, but he had been so obsessed with Draco and the investigation lately that he hadn’t thought about the tea outings as anything more than two new friends getting to know each other. He supposed he did find Seb attractive, but he was nothing compared to Draco. Yet as Harry looked at Ida’s expectant face, he figured it was best to let her believe Seb was Harry’s sexual awakening for the time being.   
Harry looked away to feign embarrassment. Ida smiled, “Don’t worry, Harry. Your secret is safe with me. You take time to figure out what this new relationship with Seb is. Take time for yourself. You deserve to find what makes you happy.”  
Draco, Harry thought, Draco makes me happy.   
“I have to go, Ida,” Harry said, “But thank you for letting me tell you.”  
His mind whirling, he walked out of the room and almost straight into Padma.  
“Harry!” she looked as if she had been crying for hours, “Ginny is looking for you. She’s wondering if you are done with your statement.”  
“Thanks, Padma,” he reached for her arm again. Making sure she was okay was more important at the moment than getting to Draco, “How are you doing?”   
“As good as I can be, I suppose,” Padma looked at Harry, a determination behind her sadness, “I have a job to do, justice to bring upon my cousin. He would want me to keep working strong.”  
Harry nodded and gave her another hug, “Yes, I’m sure he would, Padma.”  
At some point, Padma would be a good person to entrust with the information of Kareach. Once they had solid proof, of course. He knew her; she would never stop fighting until she avenged her cousin’s death. That might make her more open to exploring the possibility of Kareach.   
She pulled back, “Go see Ginny. She wants to make sure you are okay.”  
“I will,” he lied. He watched as Padma went into the room and greeted Ida, who also gave her another big hug. He then walked out of eyesight and apparated straight into Draco’s apartment, banking on the wards being open to him.  
Sure enough, after a moment of compressing darkness, he reappeared in Draco’s vibrant living room. Regret came slamming into him; what was he doing here? After the whirlwind of feelings he had just experienced, there was no way it was a wise idea for him to show up in Draco’s apartment, while his wife waited for him back at the hospital. What if Draco wasn’t even home? Harry had assumed he had gone home because he wasn’t in any of the conference rooms, but he didn’t know that for sure. He could be somewhere with his son, or at the pub, or Merlin knows where. Harry was considering apparating back to St. Mungos when a sliver of white came scurrying across the floor towards him.  
“Murr,” he murmured, reaching done to pet the ferret’s soft white and pristine fur.  
He heard a creak at the doorway and looked up. Draco was standing there, still dressed in the clothes he wore to Blaise’s hospital room. Harry tried not to look directly at his hair or piercing eyes, which were making his heart nearly explode with the force of desire. How had he never noticed this attraction before? He couldn’t deny it; Draco made him feel things he thought impossible before. All his doubts felt futile as soon as he saw Draco framed in the doorway.   
“You tried to save my life,” Draco said, barely loud enough for Harry to hear, but it echoed in his head and drowned out all his thoughts.  
“Of course, you prat,” Harry muttered, not daring to look at Draco, “I’m not a monster.”  
Draco snorted and began to move hesitantly towards him. He stopped about a foot away, and Harry couldn’t breathe. His whole body feels like it’s made of sand. Was Draco going to kiss him? But before he can internally panic about this thought, Draco wrapped him in a hug.  
Harry’s body was on fire. He had never felt so aware of all his senses. From Draco’s vanilla scent to his soft skin to his murmured “thank you” on Harry’s neck. This is what Harry has been waiting for all his life and it was over too soon as Draco pulled away and walked across the room to one of his armchairs.  
Harry tried to control his breathing. Why did Draco do that? Did he even understand how much the simple hug was affecting him? Reluctantly, he sat on the couch besides Draco. There was a strong possibility Draco didn’t share his feelings. There was also a strong possibility that Draco was in love with Blaise Zabini. Who was about ten times more attractive than he was. Right now, he needed to focus on the fact that Draco and Dean were alive and how they needed to keep it that way.   
To break the silence, Harry asked, “Do you think they choose the hospital because of you? Because you were there?”  
Draco sighed, “I don’t know. They were clearly aiming for me. Unless they were just aiming to kill anyone and anything. But it all felt so deliberate. They know we are onto them. Whether or not me being at the hospital was a lucky coincidence is up in the air.”  
Harry nodded and didn’t speak for a second. When he did, his voice gave a strange crack, “Is it safe for you to keep investigating?”  
Draco turned to look at him, “Of course not. But it never has been. I can’t stop now.”  
Harry felt himself shaking violently. Draco was going to die. He had come so close today, it was only a matter of time.   
“Harry,” Draco whispered. The word alone sent shivers up and down Harry’s spine, “We will stop this. It has to be us.”  
Harry looked at Draco directly now for the first time. He looked exhausted, weary, beaten down. But he also looked fierce and determined. Harry believed him, believed in him.   
“I know,” he whispered.  
Draco nodded and stared back at Harry. Then he suddenly jumped off and walked out of the room. Harry looked at the empty doorway, trying to understand what had just happened. Did Draco know? Had looking directly at him been a mistake? But that was ridiculous in itself. He couldn’t go the rest of his life without looking at Draco.  
Before his restless and anxious thoughts could go any farther, Draco reappeared in the doorway, a large stack of papers and books in hand.   
“We need to buckle down and find what this poison is,” Draco declared, sliding half of his pile effortlessly into Harry’s lap.   
“Draco…” Harry started, half wondering how Draco carried all these books into the room. Only half of the lot was crushing his lap. He tried not to think of the implications that came with this strength.  
“I know, Harry,” Draco snapped, “We’ve looked through all the books and found nothing. But while you may have given up searching, I still look through books every possible day I can.”  
“I haven’t given up searching!” Harry retorted defensively, “I still look every night before I go to sleep! Ginny thinks I’m the world’s best student.”  
Draco smiled softly, unexpectedly, “There’s no way Weasley believes you are reading these books for training. I didn’t get to witness your Hogwarts studying habits firsthand, but I’m sure they were abysmal.”  
Harry threw a sheet of paper at Draco’s head, “I did fine enough to become an Auror, so I couldn’t have been that bad! Not everyone has to use the Hermione and Draco technique to get good grades.”  
“They do if they want to get the best grades,” Draco countered, “Not that it mattered. Granger beat me. Every. Bloody. Time.”   
“Maybe what we need is Hermione skimming these books,” Harry commented. He imagined she could read his entire stack in less than a day.  
“Right, and get the Head of International Magical Cooperation involved,” Draco snorted, “That would go smoothly.”  
Harry shot him a hurt look, trying desperately to ignore how blue Draco’s eyes were. And they were so fucking blue.  
“I trust Hermione completely.”  
“But would she believe you?” Draco asked.  
Harry thought back to all the times he had theories and ideas while at Hogwarts. There were countless times both Ron and Hermione followed him blindly into the thick of action, trusting that he knew what he was talking about. But there were other times where Hermione’s sense of logic kicked in, from when she wouldn’t believe him about Draco being a Death Eater to when she was convinced Sirius wasn’t actually in danger after Harry had a vision via Voldemort’s mind. In the latter, she was right. Sirius hadn’t been in danger. Many times when Hermione’s intuition kicked in, she was right. But other times she wasn’t. Harry had a feeling that if he involved Hermione in on the threat of Kareach, she would choose logic to explain why the idea of a secret rumored society being run under the noses of Ministries throughout the world was unrealistic. As much as he loved and trusted Hermione, Draco was right.  
“No,” he muttered, kicking at the coffee table with his foot in frustration, “But we can still trust her!”  
Draco nodded, “I know that, Harry. I know we can. Just not yet.”  
Harry looked up at Draco and ignored the prickly sensation forming in his stomach, “It’s just us, then.”  
Draco answered softly, “Just us.”  
The two locked eyes for a second before Draco looked down at his book and began to read in his usual focused manner. Is this what Ron felt? Looking at Hermione all those years? Admiring what a powerful determination and refusal to give up could do? Harry shook himself. Draco wasn’t his to admire. Ron and Hermione always belonged to each other, despite their weak attempts at romance before seventh year. He and Draco weren’t that. Harry had a wife who was supposed to be the Hermione to his Ron. She had been, for years. Or at least he thought she had been. But regardless of everything, he couldn’t sit here and admire the amazingness that was Draco Malfoy when he had a wife and kids at home. Suddenly he felt selfish and, well, just terrible.   
He sat up abruptly, leaving Draco to drop his book in shock.  
“Harry?...” he asked, clearly concerned. There was no doubt Harry looked frantic as he reached for his wand.  
“I need to go…” he stated, not daring to look at Draco as he apparated, books in hand.  
\---  
Ignoring Draco while pretending life is normal with his wife proved to be much harder than Harry anticipated. Yes, his feelings were real. Yes, he had already told Ida and had consequently brought his feelings into the world. But he was not Draco’s person, and Draco was not his. For all he knew, Draco was in love with Blaise, a friend he had known since Hogwarts who was gay and nice and confident and so fucking attractive that Harry wondered repeatedly what Draco could ever see in him, Harry. A week had gone by and he had successfully ignored all of Draco’s angry calls and voicemails. He felt like a prat, but he couldn’t think of any other way to deal with his messy feelings without betraying his wife and family. And Ginny was great. She really was. The things he had felt after the attack had been enhanced by his insistent worry that Draco could have died. Yes, he was fully and hopelessly attracted to Draco. But that didn’t mean he didn’t love his wife, that he couldn’t make their, albeit rocky, relationship work. So he went through the motions of his life, spending as much time with his kids as he could. At the hospital things were worse because every time he went anywhere near the canteen or the Ground Floor, he was reminded of Draco. As being those are the only two places he went for most of the week, his job was a new form of hell he had not prepared for.   
So when Seb contacted him one day right after a practically hard shift (one of his patients was not only in the room Blaise had been in days earlier, but he was both gay and blond) and asked to go out for tea, he had taken the offer gladly. He arranged for them to meet in a more modern wizarding tea shop, so he would not be at all reminded of Smith and Waltons. Through all of this he was aware that he was acting as if he was going through a break-up, and he supposed in a way it felt like one.  
At the tea shop, Harry was able to forget about his Malfoy-shaped problem for a while as Seb talked about the protest he was arranging for house-elves. Hermione, of course, had been deeply involved ever since she found out, so Harry and Seb had much to talk about. Seb described how Hermione had come back into her S.P.E.W. organization with extreme force and determination right off the bat, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh when Seb described how the pins she had made for the protest sang a song Rose had written about house-elf rights. This all reminded Harry about how he should turn more to Ron and Hermione when he was feeling as shitty as he had been the past week. They always managed to find so many small ways to cheer him up without even trying. Just hearing about Hermione and Rose brought him a deep relief. Rose hadn’t been over to their house nearly as much lately, what with Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione all working harder than ever before at their respective jobs. Rose still saw plenty of his kids, as they spent many nights or days at Molly and Arthur’s whenever their parents were swamped with work, but Harry missed Rose and all his nieces and nephews beyond belief. Even with Sunday lunch (which had been canceled a few times over the last couple months, an usual occurrence for a family who loved to eat and see each other), Harry still felt the absence of his family. Thankfully, Christmas was coming up in a few weeks. Harry felt confident that the focus on family time the holiday provided would help bring his inner and outer family together at a more closer level than they had been at in months.   
“And that’s why Marvin lost half the badges last week,” Harry returned to Seb’s voice in time to hear the end of what he supposed was a story. He groaned inwardly, Seb was raising his eyebrows in a mock offense. He knew Harry hadn’t been listening.  
“Before you ask me if I heard any of that, the answer is no,” Harry admitted, “But it’s due to my inability to be a good conversationalist, not my dislike of your stories. I find you quite interesting.”  
“Thank goodness,” Seb said sarcastically, “I wouldn’t want the stories you never listen to to be too boring.”  
Harry pulled a face, “I’m listening now! Tell me the Marvin story!”  
“It’s too late,” Seb said dramatically, “The moment has passed.”  
Seb pointed his chin up in a regal manner to fake his offense. This lasted for a second before his face broke out in a full grin that reached his eyes. Harry’s heart sped up slightly; he always seemed to forget the infectiousness of Seb’s smile. Which reminded him of Draco’s smile. There was no escape.  
“Next,” Seb said conversationally as if nothing had happened, “We are planning on organizing a LGBTQ wizarding rights protest. It’s out of my technical career bonds as an activist, since I deal primarily with non-human rights, but I have many dimensions and it needs to be done. Well, done more often. There’s been protests before.”  
Harry had choked a little on his tea at Seb’s mention of LGBTQ rights. The topic was a little too close to home at the moment.  
“That’s great!” he said enthusiastically. He meant this fullheartedly. While LGBTQ rights were better in the wizarding world than in the muggle world, there was still a long way to go until same-sex couples and transgender wizards and witches earned the same rights and treatment as those who were heterosexual or cis-gender. And while he was actively ignoring his feelings for Draco, it didn’t change the fact he was now part of the LGBTQ community. That clearly didn’t change his stance on the subject, as he was already extremely pro LGBTQ rights, but it did make the matter much more personal.  
“Yeah, it is,” Seb agreed, “I’m thinking of having people give speeches before we start protesting. Like in a large tent or something. People can talk about their own coming out stories and the good and bad things they have dealt with while living as an openly LGBTQ wizard or witch.”  
Harry could see the passion sparking a fire in Seb’s eyes. He felt a surge of pride to have made a friend who was so able to take matters into his own hands. He wished he was more like that.  
“And,” Seb continued, “I will be able to tell my coming out story. It may not be much, as my parents are the most accepting people in the bloody universe, but that’s not what matters. I was still terrified of telling them I was bi, it felt like I was erasing the person they thought I was. That everybody thought I was. And that’s terrifying, whether or not you know your parents will accept you for who you are.”  
Harry was glad he had set his tea down before Seb started talking again, he may have full on choked on it if he had been drinking when Seb said all of this. Harry had not known Seb was bi. Sure, he had a feeling Seb could be something other than straight, but the more he had spent time with Seb, the less he thought this was true. It was mainly because Seb had told him multiple stories about his ex-girlfriend Hestoria that Harry began to lean towards the straight side of things. But as Harry began to think about Seb’s words, it all made sense. Seb was still attracted to women. He could still fall in love with another woman and potentially get married. This gave him a possibility to be the Seb his friends and family had always envisioned, the one who married a woman and lived happily ever after in a heterosexual relationship. But even if that did happen, Seb was still attracted to other genders, not just females. By not coming out, he would be forever hiding a part of himself from the people he loved.  
“You’re right,” Harry grasped Seb’s arm, “People who love more than one gender feel like they have the choice to hide behind a heterosexual relationship, regardless of how real that relationship may be. You need to tell your story at the protest. It’s not okay to hide any part of yourself, because it will slowly kill you inside.”  
Seb stared at him in amazement, “Exactly,” he murmured, “It sounds like you should be speaking at the protest, Harry.”  
“You have no idea, Seb.”  
\---  
After Harry left Seb, he fire called Ginny and kids and told them he would be home after he made a stop at Hermione’s. He told Ginny he had a question for Hermione visa ve healing, which was a lie. Harry supposed that because of the real purpose of his visit, he was in the clear for a lie tonight.   
He had spoken to Padma earlier that day, so he knew Ron and Padma had a late shift that night. Well, most of their nights consisted of entire day long shifts with the aftermath of the hospital attack occupying the focus of Ministry issues. This left Hermione home by herself, as Padma had also told him Hermione had been taking calls from her house the last two days as a way to focus on organizing foreign issues without dealing with constant interruptions. He hoped she could spare time for Harry.  
He apparated into the living room without warning, hoping that Hermione would forgive him for his rudeness. Listening for the tell-tale sound of frantic quill against parchment, he quickly found Hermione at the dining room table, papers spread in an array around her as she wrote fiercely on her nearly completely black parchment.  
Harry tapped lightly on the door frame, causing Hermione to send a long streak of black down her parchment in shock.   
“Harry!” she exclaimed, quickly removing the black ink with her wand, “What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” She stood up and quickly made her way over to him to see what the problem was.  
“I’m fine, Hermione,” he thought about this for a second, then shook his head, “Actually, no I am not. Fine, I mean. I need someone to say something rather big and confusing to and I was hoping it could be you. Well, I already told someone, but this someone isn’t an overly nurturing type. I mean, they were plenty accepting, but not overtly helpful…”  
Hermione cut off his ramblings with a hug. She pulled back and looked him straight in the eyes.  
“What is it, Harry?” she asked, her eyes wide with concern, “You can tell me anything. I will always be your person to tell big and confusing things to,” she gave a half smile at this and waited for Harry to respond.  
Now that he was here with Hermione looking back at him, he wasn’t sure he could tell her. Sure, he had told Ida, but that had been a moment of traumatic and frantic desperation. And, as much as he loved Ida, he didn’t have the same connection with her. Hermione had been his best friend since he was eleven. She knew him extremely well. Ida knew him well, but not in this way. He had been through hell with Hermione and she had always been there for him. This was the same girl he had brought on a hunt for Horcruxes. The same girl he had set a framed mass-murderer free with. The same girl who would do anything for him. Telling her this felt like what Seb had said: that it would change their entire friendship. Just like Seb, though, he needed to be brave enough to move past that and just tell his full truth.  
“Harry?” Hermione asked searchingly, “You can tell me.”  
“I like blokes,” he blurted, realizing immediately this was not the smoothest way to come out, “I mean, I am attracted to both men and women. And more. I’m bi, or pan, or poly, or something else. I don’t know yet. But I’m not straight.”  
Hermione stared at him for a moment. He tried to read her expression. She looked sad, worried. Not what he was necessarily expecting.  
“Harry…” she said, “I’m so happy you’ve told me. Regardless of whether or not you’re married to a woman, it’s important that you don’t hide this.”  
“That’s how I feel, too,” he said, surprised to see Hermione was on the verge of tears.  
“Oh, Harry!” she suddenly exclaimed, “How long have you known? How long have you felt like you can’t talk to me! I’ve noticed you've been oddly distant from all of us for a while. Was this why? I hope you know how much we love you!”  
“Hermione,” Harry consoled, “I haven’t fully known until this past week. I guess I had my suspicions, but it can be extremely hard to address a part of yourself you’ve buried for years. None of this has anything to do with me not trusting you. Although, I nearly didn’t tell you today.”  
“Why not?” Hermione said, wiping tears out of her eyes with her sleeve.  
“I have a wife, kids. I’m so afraid of destroying all of that,” Harry admitted.  
“But you won’t!” Hermione insisted, “Everyone, including Ginny, will understand that you can be attracted to more than women without thinking you want to leave Ginny.”  
Harry looked away from Hermione abruptly at this, not wanting her to see the guilt in his face.  
“Unless,” Hermione whispered, trying to peer at him, “There was someone who made you realize you aren’t straight?”  
Harry felt his face heat up. Was he ready to tell this part?  
“Harry…” Hermione muttered, “Who is it?”  
Harry looked down at his hands as tears began to fall uncontrollably from his eyes. He almost immediately felt Hermione’s arms around him.  
He pushed away from her, “How can you hug me? I just admitted I’ve been unfaithful to my wife, your best friend, Ron’s sister!”  
Hermione stepped back, “Did you cheat?” she whispered.  
“No!” Harry insisted, “But I’m in love. And that’s worse enough.”  
“You’re in love?” she whispered again, “Oh, Harry.”  
“I know. But… I don’t think I can avoid it. I’ve tried all week to avoid it, to forget about this person. But I can’t. And if I can’t last one week, I can’t last a lifetime.”  
Hermione nodded. She remained silent for a moment, and then she burst into tears.  
“Harry, I want you to be happy!” she wailed, “I just don’t know how to handle this! Ginny is so close to me…”  
“I know,” Harry grounded, “I shouldn’t have told you. I’m so sorry, Hermione.”  
Harry moved to leave, but Hermione grabbed his arm, “There is no way in hell you are leaving. You needed someone to confide in, and it can be me. I know you are dying to tell me who this mystery man is, so you can. I’m here for you.”  
Harry felt a surge of gratitude towards Hermione. But if she was handling the Ginny of it all poorly, she was definitely not going to hold up well when he told her he was in love with Draco.   
“Hermione, I don’t think you want to know,” he insisted.  
She paused, her scrunched up concentration. “It can’t be,” she murmured.  
“What?” Harry asked.  
“It’s Draco,” Hermione said evenly, looking straight at Harry.  
His whole body froze at the mention of his name. Everything became too real; telling people he was queer was one thing. Having Hermione know this queerness was directed almost exclusively towards Draco Malfoy was another. All of a sudden the feelings, thoughts, desires were out in the open. He couldn’t hide anymore.  
His silence must have confirmed everything, because Hermione gasped in shock.  
Harry looked up wearily, fearing the worst.  
“How?” she whispered, then quickly followed with, “Sorry, that was insensitive. If you, well, love him, he must be a great bloke now.”  
“He is,” Harry whispered back, “Better than I could ever have imagined. I want to be with him, I know that now. But I don’t think it will ever be possible. Maybe this was all foolish. Maybe I should just move on.”  
“Harry,” Hermione reached for his hand, “You just told me you can’t do that anymore. Whether or not you and Draco ever work out, you need to tell Ginny. Everything. You can’t live a lie. We all know better than anyone that life is unpredictable and so, so fragile. We all managed to get through hell to have the lives we have today. You of all people deserve full and complete happiness.”  
“Hermione, that was beautiful,” he smiled at his friend, “But it may not be that easy.”  
“It never is,” Hermione said, “But when has that ever stopped you?”  
Harry laughed shortly, “That’s true.”  
“Harry, if I am being honest, I don’t want you and Ginny to break up. I love both of you and the relationship our families have. But more than that, I want you and Ginny to be happy. And if you aren’t happy, that will never be okay. I know that you can find a truer, more pure life, where you and Ginny are in each other's lives and mine and Ron’s lives without being together. If that’s what you need. Because it would never be fair to any one, not even your kids, if you stayed in a marriage where real love was absent.”  
As Hermione finished talking, Harry pulled her into another hug. She rubbed his back as he sobbed. He was right to talk to Hermione. She said everything he needed to hear and more. He needed to talk to Ginny, because he couldn’t keep asking her to live an incomplete life with him.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry was sitting in the canteen eating lunch during his break, an eerie feeling washing over him as he looked at the unusually empty canteen. It had been like this for the past week, ever since the attack. The high death toll wasn’t the only thing lowering the numbers of Healers and trainees. Many, like Dean, were still recovering from ingesting the poison themselves. Miraculously, only three muggleborns who had eaten something laced with poison had died. Most of the deaths came from the slew of killing curses that had been flying around the canteen. That meant seventeen deaths, of wizards and witches of both pure and half bloods, had been because of the recklessness of attempts to kill Draco. Harry couldn’t imagine how Draco was feeling about this. He already held onto so much guilt from his inability to figure out how to stop Kareach. Harry was certain he was spending everyday beating himself up for allowing so many innocent people to die on his watch. Harry had considered calling Draco multiple times, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had fucked up their friendship by making it all about the chemistry between them that he was most liking inventing in his head. At some point, he would have to talk to Draco again. Harry wasn’t going to leave the investigation. But he felt like he owed it to Ginny to talk to her before he spent more time with Draco. This was proving impossible, and with Christmas right around the corner, Harry couldn’t bring himself to mess up the holidays with his terrible news. As of right now, his plan was to wait until after Christmas to tell her. He’d figure out what to do about Draco after that.  
Harry sighed as he took a bite of his sandwich. The absence of Dean felt like a sharp pain in his side. It was a constant reminder of the terrific events of last week and what they had done to his dear friend. Harry began to feel a darkness spread over him; he couldn’t be here anymore. He could no longer stand sitting with his thoughts and feelings. Standing up, he grabbed his sandwich and threw the rest of it in the bin before heading back to the Ground Floor.  
The rest of the day dragged by with cauldron injuries and some rather unfortunate wand mishaps (one witch had sprouted antlers from her head). He tried to distract himself by joking kindly with the patients and by talking to Caser whenever they shared the same patient, but nothing seemed to cheer him up. The looming thoughts of Kareach, Ginny and Draco made his mind numb with a sadness he couldn’t shake.   
When it came time for him to go home, he finally felt some sense of relief. He would get to go and see his kids and hopefully forget about his troubles for a while as he basked in their happiness and youthful energy. As he pulled out his wand to apparate, he realized that he didn’t have his jacket. It was one Molly had gotten for him, and he felt guilty leaving it behind. He reasoned it must be up in the canteen and took the lift to the fifth floor to search.   
He stepped onto the lift and waited in silence as he rode up to the top floor. When the lift doors opened, he came face to face with the last person he wanted to see.  
Draco was standing there. Without any warning, he grabbed Harry by the arm and led him across the room towards the conference rooms. Harry tried to pull away while simultaneously ignoring the terrifying beating of his heart, but Draco held tight. Harry had never seen him this determined, this threatening in his demeanor. Once they reached conference room B, Draco dropped him to a chair and slammed the door shut. He then began a round of silencing charms as Harry watched in silent confusion.   
He finally turned to Harry and said with strong authority, “Harry, I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. I know you are ignoring me for Merlin knows what reason, but that does not fucking matter right now. I have news that you need to hear.”  
Harry just nodded as Draco paced the room. He was running one hand through his hair with an anxiousness Harry had never witnessed from him. He was eager, angry, beyond determined. Whatever he had found out was big.  
“I know what the poison is,” he said intensely, locking eyes with Harry.  
Harry’s mouth fell open but Draco held up a finger to silence him, “It’s rare. So fucking rare I doubt anyone else in England besides the Kareach members have even heard of it. I would never have thought of it, if it wasn't for all of my trips to Cambodia. On one of my trips, I met a friendly woman there who was willing to tell the stories and traditions of her wizarding family, one of the oldest in the world. One of the stories she told me was about a tradition her ancestors held in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. When any member of the community broke the law in an unforgivable way, they were forced to ingest a poison known as Chann.”  
Draco paused, letting the name ring in the small room, “Harry, this poison has effects I had never heard of. It wasn’t intended to kill the victim. In fact, with proper spells, all of their victims were typically good as new after the ingestion. No, the poison was meant to do much more than punish just the one person. This community believed that if someone committed an offense, it was likely their offspring would cause the same problems. See, they believed criminal acts were hereditary.”  
“So Chann stops people from being able to reproduce?” Harry whispered, horrified.  
Draco nodded, “Yes. The person who takes the poison can never produce their own child. They also infect anyone they have intercourse with throughout their life.”  
Harry shook his head in horror, “That’s despicable!”  
Draco hit the table hard with his fist, “It’s positively evil. And it all makes sense. Instead of simply killing muggles and muggleborns, Kareach is stopping bloodlines in their tracks. It’s also spreading farther and quicker than it would if they were simply slaughtering hoards of muggles and muggleborns.”  
“It’s the perfect poison,” Harry said, appalled, “Are you sure it’s the one they are using? It logically makes sense, especially because so few people have died from the poison, but how do you know? If it’s so rare?”  
“Let me show you,” Draco bent down to riffle through a tote bag Harry now realized was sitting on the floor next to the table. Harry also saw his own coat sitting next to it in a heap. Draco must have taken his coat to get him up here. It was a way to reassure that Harry couldn’t refuse to talk to Draco.  
Draco sat up and pulled out a stack of papers covered with notes. “I took these all while on that trip to Cambodia,” he explained. He began to look urgently though the stack, stopping abruptly when he found one with a large diagram drawn on it.   
Harry looked at the paper as Draco placed it down in front of him. He now realized the picture depicted a human that seemed to be unaffected with Chann. Harry’s stomach dropped as he began to read the side effects, which were both drawn on the person and described on the sides. The entire person was shaded a bright orange, indicating the tint of orange Harry had witnessed on every poisoned patient he had encountered. The eyes were labeled with the words ``glassy and distant looking before the seizure”, driving home the fact that this was exactly what Harry had feared. Chann was the poison Kareach had been using.  
“You’re right, Draco,” Harry whispered numbly, “All those people… they all can’t reproduce?”  
Draco nodded. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something else, then closed it and looked down at his lap.   
The urgent energy that had consumed the room when Draco dragged Harry in had dissipated. All was left was the nasty realization of what the poison was doing to hundreds of innocent people. The whole idea was so despicably genius that it made Harry’s stomach feel like it was made of lead. He couldn’t fathom the amount of people this poison could spread to overtime. Looking over at Draco, he could tell he was feeling the same thing; an all consuming sense of dread, anger and disgust.   
“What do we do now?” Harry whispered, breaking the silence of the room.   
Draco heaved a great sigh and looked up at Harry, “We need to tell the Aurors. But not all of them. Our best bet would be to tell only one or two of them, people we truly trust, so that we have the resources of the Auror department without risking the entire ministry knowing about the poison.”  
Harry nodded in agreement, “That’s smart. It would be foolish to get the entire Auror department, and consequently the ministry, involved. We don’t know who we can trust.”  
“Precisely,” Draco declared, standing up to pace the room, “This is monumental information. We can’t risk letting Kareach know we are onto them. And there is no bloody way not a single person in the ministry isn’t involved in this.”  
“You think?” Harry said wearily, not wanting to associate any of his old colleagues with the actions of Kareach.  
“Definitely,” Draco insisted, “Harry, the Ministry is huge. Not everyone there has dropped the wizard first mentality just because Voldemort is gone. Honestly, it would be a perfect cover for someone in Kareach. Make the public believe you are working for a government that values muggle wizard equality while secretary harbor bigoted views.”  
Harry nodded silently; this did all make perfect sense. It was just terrifying to think that so many of his friends and family, many of which were muggleborn, could be going to work with someone who wanted to stunt their reproductive system with the goal of ending their ancestry.   
“I know it’s hard,” Harry looked up into Draco’s eyes, intense and dark with an anger Harry hadn’t seen in him in a long time, “But we need to focus on stopping this.”  
Draco stopped in front of Harry suddenly. Then he picked up the chair in front of him and threw it violently across the room at the wall. Thankfully, the chair was metal and did not break, but it did make a rather large clunking sound that echoed around the room, only disturbed by Draco’s equally large yelp of frustration.   
“It seems you’re already focused,” Harry joked softly, noting the softening of Draco’s eyes as Harry spoke.  
“I’m allowed some chair tosses, Harry,” Draco snapped, “It doesn’t mean I’m not focused.”  
“Fine,” Harry stood up and turned around to grab his own chair firmly around the sides. He then picked it up over his head and threw it as hard as he could at the opposite wall. The chair slammed into the wall with an even louder sound than before.   
Draco raised his eyebrows as the door whipped open to reveal a hassled looking Healer.  
“What is going on in here?” the woman asked, looking accusingly at the chairs laying on their sides.  
“An interview,” Draco said simply. His words still held just enough venom from his frustration that the Healer backed up a step, “I am interviewing trainee Potter here on the best way to relieve stress after a long work day.”  
“Oh,” the healer said slowly, looking from Harry to Draco, “In that case, I would recommend screaming into a pillow. I do it on the daily.”  
With that, she pulled the door shut behind her as she walked back to the canteen. Harry couldn’t help himself; as soon as the door was closed, he began to laugh. It was a jarring sound he barely recognized as his own. Draco gave him an alarmed look, but then slowly began to laugh along with Harry, his eyes still a mix of sadness and anger that Harry wanted desperately to erase.   
Once their laughter died down, Harry could feel tension full the room once again. He forced himself to address Draco.  
“Ron and Padma,” Harry stated, “Those are the Aurors we need to tell. I trust both of them with my life, and they are already partners so they are great at working together. Not that I don’t trust Ida, Aviary or Remmins, but I think two people is the perfect amount.”  
Draco nodded, “I was thinking the same thing. I know Granger- Weasley would never be involved in anything like Kareach. I don’t know Padma well enough, though. That’s why I was hesitant to bring her up in the first place. Is it safe to trust more than just Granger- Weasley?”  
Without hesitation, Harry answered, “Of course. I trust almost all of the Aurors completely. I worked with Padma for years. She is a good person who works harder than any other Auror I’ve met. Not only can we trust her, I think she’d also be an essential resource. She’s brilliant and always notices things no one else does. Ron, on the other hand, is able to put together big picture things much better. That’s why they make the perfect team. They would be perfect to work with us.”  
Draco let out a small snort, “I didn’t really need the rundown of their whole professional relationship, but I’m sold. We can tell Padma and Ron.”  
“Ron? Padma?” Harry asked, trying but failing to keep the squeak of surprise out of his voice.  
“We are going to be entrusting them with a serious investigation,” Draco huffed in response, “I think I could start using their first names. Maybe not in front of them, though. Not if it’ll get this reaction.”  
“Oh, Ron will probably pass out from the shock,” Harry confirmed, “But it’s a good idea. We need every bit of civility we can get if we’re going to take down Kareach together.”  
Draco said nothing for a second, then began to straighten back up the room with his wand and move towards the door. An apology was on the tip of Harry’s tongue for the way he had been acting lately, but then a more urgent thought popped into his head.  
“What about Dean?” Harry half-shouted as he remembered his friend.  
Draco looked back at Harry, “He’s infected, Harry. He can’t reproduce.”  
“Should we tell him? I understand that we shouldn't alert everyone that got infected at the moment because that would definitely draw the attention of Kareach, but it just all seems so unfair. How can I not tell Dean that something like this has happened to him?”  
Draco seemed to be thinking of what to say. Harry tried to ignore the pang his heart gave as he watched the feelings of worry and guilt flash across Draco’s face.  
“Harry, I guess that’s up to you,” Draco said firmly, “I don’t think anyone should know yet, as much as that pains me, but I can’t ask you to keep something like this from your friend.”  
Harry plopped down into one of the chairs Draco had restored to the table, “They have never been certain if they want kids, and they’ve talked about adoption the most,” Harry murmured, “But they have mentioned surrogacy in the past. What if they’re still considering? Now that’s not an option for either of them. Unless…”  
“Unless they haven’t had sex and they could still save some of Seamus’s sperm,” Draco finished bluntly.  
“Yes,” Harry muttered, not really wanting to think about his two friends shagging.   
“If it were Blaise, or Pansy,” Draco whispered, “I’d probably have to tell them.”  
Harry nodded, tears coming to his eyes before he could stop them. The thought of telling Dean and Seamus any of this terrified him. What if they were still seriously considering surrogacy? Of course they could adopt again, but what if that’s not what they wanted? They didn’t deserve to have this taken away, regardless of their situation.  
Harry wiped his eyes and looked up to apologize to Draco, but he was gone.  
\---  
The next two weeks passed in a blur of unwanted conversations and desperate attempts to find normalcy before the holidays. Draco and Harry had gone to the Ministry together to talk to Ron and Padma. The two immediately recognized that the effects of Chann matched up perfectly with the observed effects of the attacks from the past year. With such a strong lead on what the poison from the attacks could be, Padma and Ron were readily willing to work with Harry and Draco. They understood how dangerous sharing their knowledge of Chann with the Ministry could be and agreed to keep the information between them until they could find out more about the potential culprits. Padma and Ron still refused to agree with the fact this was the work of Kareach, but that hardly mattered anymore. What mattered was they all searched for any signs of Chann being brought into the country. Which was substantially more difficult than it sounded (and it already sounded extremely difficult) because hardly anyone in England had ever even heard of the poison, let alone had heard of it being brought into the country. Draco believed that there had already been a stash in the country for many years, potentially brought in by someone the Ministry couldn't patrol. This left their investigation wide open and with too many loose ends to make much progress. Despite all these negatives, Harry found it was easier to be around Draco if they were all constantly in investigating mode. There wasn’t time to contemplate his complex and pesky feelings when he had a reproductive destroying poison to worry about.  
With all that in mind, Harry was also trying to deal with the fact that Christmas was only days away. Not to mention the larger problem about what to say to Dean and Seamus. Dean had only recently left his bed in St. Mungos and was now recovering at home. This gave Harry faith that he and Seamus hadn’t… well… shagged. Harry knew the longer he waited to tell them the more of a chance this abstinence was going to end, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. If he knew Dean, he was in bed miserable, desperate to get back to his job. The last thing he needed after the traumatic events of the hospital attack was Harry telling him that he had lost all ability to reproduce and that he could spread this to his husband. Harry focused on meeting with Draco, Ron and Padma and ignored the guilt building up inside him. Thankfully, Draco hadn’t asked him about it. Draco hadn’t asked him much of anything, lately, that wasn’t directly related to the case. Harry knew Draco wasn’t over how rude he had acted by blatantly ignoring him for a week straight, but whenever he tried to bring it up, Draco waved him away and told him to focus on the investigation. With all of this on his mind as the weeks gave way to Christmas Eve, it was no wonder Harry felt anything but the Christmas spirit.  
As tradition, Harry and Ginny hosted a Christmas Eve celebration at their house. They invited all their friends and family every year to have dinner and drinks. As Harry was rushing through the house finishing up last minute food preparations and decorations, he heard his kids voices chime with excitement. Setting down the quiche he had in his arms, he walked into the living area to see Ron, Hermione and Rose still covered in Floo powder, an hour early as usual.   
“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, rushing towards him and enveloping him in a hug that was all soft brown curls.   
“How are you?” she whispered softly into his ear. Harry hadn’t talked to her since his confession a few weeks before. He had been secretly dreading seeing her again. Harry had put his crush on Draco and his unhappiness in his marriage so far from his mind for the weeks leading up to Christmas that he was starting to think the idea of leaving Ginny was anything but realistic. He had a family; that was something he was beyond lucky to have, what with all the families that would be nonexistent because of Chann. He shouldn’t trade that for Draco.   
As Hermione pulled back, she murmured something so softly that only Harry could hear, “You need to tell her, Harry.”  
Harry’s whole body stiffened. He turned away from Hermione without looking her in the eye and hugged Rose and Ron. He tried to ignore the lingering stress and sadness in Ron’s eyes and instead turned to his kids and Rose, who were laughing as they compared ugly Christmas sweaters, a Potter-Weasley Christmas Eve tradition. Ron and Hermione had been his oldest source of comfort and happiness, and now they reminded him of the two most challenging things in his life; his desire to end his marriage and his failed attempts to bring an end to the attacks afflicting muggles and muggleborns. The easiest thing for him right now was to impress Rose with his Christmas tree sweater that lights up and wait for his other guests to arrive.   
As the evening went on, the house filled up with friends, old and new. Every Ministry employee, especially the Aurors, had a look of exhaustion and weariness that they attempted to hide but couldn’t quite erase. Despite the unpleasantness of the ever-present difficulties that faced his friends and family, they all managed to let go for the night. He played countless board games with his nieces and nephews. Teddy and Victore, who were back from Hogwarts for the holidays, had managed to start a Clue club in the Gryffindor house and, as a result, were able to sweep their competition, which consisted of Dom, Parvati, George and Harry. They played five rounds before Molly came over and realized they were playing a game that glorified murder and scolded Harry, George and Parvati for letting them play during these times. They apologized sheepishly and settled on Trouble. All in all, the night was chaos and endless fun, which was exactly what Harry needed. After his fourth game of Trouble, he ended up retiring to the living room. As people came and went, Harry ended up sitting alone with Ron and Padma at one point. When Angelina, who had been drinking a firewhiskey besides him, went to find Fleur to ask her about her opinion on the new quidditch robes Reyes had ordered for the team, Harry moved to get up but Ron stopped him.  
“Harry…” he said hesitantly.  
“No,” Harry whispered, “We are not talking about it. Not here. Not on Christmas Eve.”  
“Just one thing, Harry,” Ron argued sheepishly, “We think it’s safer if we remove Malfoy from this case.”  
Harry froze at these words, staring at his friend in alarm, “What?” he whispered slowly.  
“For his safety!” Ron reiterated, “He has no Auror training. What he is investigating is extremely dangerous. As Aurors we can’t risk it.”  
Harry shook his head, anger reverberating through his body, “And you agree with this, Padma?”  
Padma gave a stiff nod, “Ron’s right, Harry. We can’t morally put Malfoy into this much danger. Technically, we shouldn’t involve you either. You aren’t an Auror anymore.”  
“Involve me!?” Harry whispered harshly, “Are you kidding me? This is our case! Mine and Draco’s! We trusted you by letting you in on the poison, there’s no way in hell you are going to kick off Draco.”  
“Harry…” Ron began.  
“No!” Harry snapped, trying not to raise his voice but failing, “He’s integral to all of this. You both would be nowhere without him! The notion of not involving him is ridiculous.”  
“Harry,” Padma whispered fiercely, “Calm down! We aren’t saying Malfoy wasn’t helpful! But he’s done something important for us, and now it’s our turn to take on the dangerous part by ourselves. It’s the way it has to be.”  
Ron nodded in agreement, “We can’t risk Malfoy getting hurt. We are breaking the oath we made as Aurors just by involving him. And you.”  
“That’s bullshit!” Harry exclaimed, voice now fully raised, “You don’t trust him! He’s gone out on a limb to trust you two, and you are writing him off as if he’s nothing! As if he hasn’t been working at this for months!”  
What’s going on?” Parvati stood in the doorway with Ida and Seamus, who were all looking alarmed.   
“Nothing!” Harry burst, shoving his way between Ida and Seamus and towards the front door of the house.  
He opened the door and breathed in the stinging winter air. His face was flushed and his pulse was racing; he felt out of control. He couldn’t believe Ron and Padma. He thought he could trust them to work with him and Draco. This was going to destroy everything Draco had been working on and it was all his fault.  
Harry barely registered the bang of the front door behind him as he paced on the porch.  
“Harry!” Ginny snapped.  
Harry whipped around. Ginny was fuming with anger, “If you even think about leaving this party, I will curse you until you can’t stand straight! You can’t blow up everytime you become frustrated! Whatever it is that you are still hiding from me that is causing you to lose your mind whenever we have friends over we will talk about later. Right now I need you to go back inside and enjoy Christmas Eve with your friends and family before you freak them out any further. Understand?”   
Harry found himself nodding although the last thing he wanted to do was go in and see Ron and Padma again. But he followed Ginny into the house without another word, because it was Christmas Eve. He couldn’t miss spending that with his family, no matter how frustrated he was.”  
Harry made his way back to the sitting room, where all of the guests had congregated. He sat down next to Louis and Ida and began a conversation about his favorite spells . Thankfully, no one seemed to be interested in asking Harry, Ron or Padma about Harry’s outburst earlier, allowing Harry to slip into the conversation. Harry was just explaining why he liked Expelliarmus best with an unwavering passion when Seamus stood up and began tapping a spoon against his wine glass to get the room’s attention.   
The room quieted down as they all turned to face Seamus, who was gesturing for Dean to join him. Dean eased himself out of the chair to Seamus’s side, who slung an arm around his husband’s shoulder immediately. Harry envied their easy comfort in each other and wondered when he and Ginny had lost that. Seamus looked briefly at Dean, who gave a small nod. That seemed to be Seamus’s cue, as he turned back to the room and began speaking.  
“So, as you all know,” Seamus said, “Dean was recently the victim of a terrible crime committed at St. Mungos.”  
The room stiffened immediately at the mention of the attacks. Harry could see Ida look down at her lap, no doubt feeling the same sense of shame he felt at letting the attack at the hospital harm so many innocent people. Molly stood up and began to make her way towards Seamus when he held up his hand.  
“No worries, Molly, I’m not here to dwell on what happened. I understand Christmas Eve isn’t the time or place for worries,” he paused and beamed as Lily removed herself from Arthur’s lap and went to wrap herself around Seamus’s legs, murmuring “Uncle Seamus”.  
“This,” Seamus continued, “Is exactly what the holidays are about. My family, who makes me feel safe and welcome every day of my life. About my husband, the love of my life. When Dean had…” he caught Molly’s disapproving eye, “...his health scare, it made us realize there is no time to waste. There has been something we have wanted to try for a long time, but we always found excuses as to why now isn’t the right time. What we’ve both realized lately is that there will never be a better time than now. So, Dean and I have decided to try surrogacy!”  
Harry’s entire stomach dropped to his feet. He felt his pulse raising, the wall’s closing in around him. This couldn’t be happening. Them wanting a baby was a complete uncertainty, something they had been doubtful about for years. This was the worst possible time for them to make the decision. As the room broke into shouts of congratulations and hugs as Seamus and Dean explained further their decision, Harry sat in stunned silence, not knowing what to do or say. He barely registered Louis reaching for his hand.  
“Uncle Harry?” he asked concernedly, “Why do you look upset? Is sure-i-gassy bad?”  
Harry dropped his nephew’s hand and moved past his friends and family into the yard. He barely made it to a bush before he hurled directly into it. His head spinning, he sat down on the porch steps and began to sob into his hands. He was with Dean when the attack happened. He could have stopped all of this. What if Seamus and Dean had already had sex? Then they couldn’t use either of their sperm. He knew adoption was an option, but he absolutely hated having to take their desire to use surrogacy away from them. With his usual irrational behavior, he reached for the phone in his pocket and began to dial Draco’s number from memory. He needed to talk to someone that would understand his pain completely. Sure, Ron and Padma were inside, but he didn’t want to talk to them about how to handle this. Draco was the one who knew what to do and what to say.   
Unfortunately, Draco wasn’t picking up. He couldn't blame him; it was Christmas Eve, he was probably with his kid and family. Harry suddenly felt very alone and confused.   
“Harry,” said a dreamy voice from behind him.   
He turned around and saw Luna. She was dressed in the most elaborate Christmas sweater he had ever seen (while Harry only had a Christmas tree on the front of his sweater, Luna was basically a living three dimensional tree, strung with lights and singing ornaments). She walked down the steps toward him and then waved her wand over her sweater dress to make it flatten against her so she could sit down properly next to Harry.  
Harry was trying not to look at her. He couldn’t confess why he was so upset so he didn’t want Luna to see he had been crying. But Luna wasn’t looking at him anyway. She was staring out across the lawn. The silence comforted Harry in a way he couldn’t explain. He needed someone to just let him feel sad without an explanation.  
“It’s the poison, isn’t it?” Luna asked abruptly, “That is what’s upsetting you. Whatever is in the poison harmed Dean and the other victims in an irreversible and drastic way. One that left Dean unable to reproduce, I presume, by your reaction just now?”  
Harry stared at Luna in amazement. She said this all as if it were obvious. He sometimes forgot how observant and bright she really was. Without saying anything, he gave a short nod. Luna sighed and patted his arm softly.  
“None of this is your fault, Harry,” Luna comforted, “And they will be upset, but not at you. What’s most important is that they know as soon as possible.”  
Harry nodded, “You’re right,” he whispered, “I should have told them right away. I just couldn’t imagine getting that kind of news before I had any kids of my own. It’s heartbreaking.”  
“It is,” Luna agreed, “But it’s less heartbreaking if they find out from a friend.”  
Harry knew she was right; he needed to talk to them tonight. It couldn't wait any longer. He began to cry again softly.  
Luna placed her arm around his shoulder, “It’ll be okay, Harry.”  
Then she stood up and made her way to the house, tree sweater reforming around her with a touch of a wand.  
Harry looked at the place where she had sat and wiped his tears on the back of his hand. He was working on getting the courage to go back inside when he heard the door open once again behind him.   
Harry almost threw up again when he saw who it was. Dean and Seamus were making their way down the stairs, a mirror of Luna only minutes earlier (sans the lifesize Christmas tree sweater).   
“Harry?” Dean asked softly, lowering himself down besides Harry, “Luna says you want to talk to us?”  
“Yeah mate,” Seamus said as he said down next to Dean and put an arm around him, “Are you alright? What’s been going on?”  
Harry looked up hesitantly at his friends’ faces. How could he tell them?  
He was saved from that thought when a sudden flash of light stole his attention from Dean and Seamus. To his utter surprise, Draco was standing in front of him, wearing a snowman sweater and a crown from a Christmas cracker on his head.  
“Harry!” he exclaimed, rushing over, “What happened! I tried calling back…” he trailed off when he noticed Dean and Seamus sitting next to Harry.  
Draco glanced at him for confirmation and Harry nodded stiffly.   
“Oh, no,” Draco whispered, “This can’t be happening…”  
“What’s going on?” Seamus demanded, looking anxiously from Harry to Draco, “Why is Malfoy here?”  
Draco was pacing. Harry could sense his panic from here. He felt his own dread and guilt rise in his throat. He wanted to flee, get as far away from this situation as possible, but he couldn’t. Dean and Seamus deserved that much. Harry moved to speak when Draco knelt down in front of him and grabbed his arm.  
“Harry, I’ll do it,” he said softly, locking his eyes with Harry’s own, “You’ve been through enough tonight.”  
With that, Draco began to carefully explain Chann to Dean and Seamus, being compassionate and comforting with each word. Harry tried not to admire this nurturing side of   
Draco at the moment; what he needed to focus on was his friends. When Draco finished speaking, Dean was sobbing into Seamus’s shoulder while Seamus held onto his husband like a lifeline.  
“You can still use surrogacy, if you haven’t had sex since the attack,” Draco said this half-heartedly, as he could probably tell by Dean and Seamus’s reactions that ship had already sailed.  
Seamus gave a small head shake. Harry looked at Draco, who was now crying softly too. He reached out and grasped Draco’s hand. Just then, the door opened and Ginny appeared.  
She looked at Dean and Seamus hugging and crying and then Harry and Draco holding hands while Draco cried and turned back to go into the house.  
“Ginny!” Harry yelped, releasing Draco’s hand and turning around to look at her.  
She looked back at him, “Harry, what’s going on?” she looked down at Dean and Seamus, who had stopped crying to look back at her, “What did you tell Dean and Seamus? Why is everything so sad and heavy with you lately? And why is Draco Malfoy the only one you are capable of taking comfort in?”  
Harry tried desperately to ignore the blush forming across his cheeks at this statement, “Gin,” he said, “I’ll explain everything later. I promise. Right now, I need to make sure Dean and Seamus are alright.”  
Ginny stared for a moment, then nodded silently and made her way back inside. With that, Harry turned to Dean and Seamus.   
“I’m sorry we ruined your Christmas Eve,” Harry said softly.  
“You didn’t,” Seamus spoke, his voice wavering, “We can still adopt, you know. We just always wanted to have a kid that shared one of our genes.”  
“Yeah, but we always wanted to save a child from a bad situation as well,” Dean murmured, “We can make a family, no matter what. It’s just… so hard to believe we have our right to reproduction taken away from us.”  
“I know,” Draco whispered, looking at Dean and Seamus in turn, “That’s why we will fight to make sure no one else has this same terrible fate.”  
“And we won’t tell anyone else,” Dean said, “But I think I reserve the right to if a victim is talking about having kids.”  
Harry nodded in agreement and looked over at Draco for confirmation. Draco gave a short nod back, “People deserve to know if it comes to a situation like this one.”  
The four fell silent, not knowing what to say anymore. Harry decided to do his best to alleviate their heartache.  
“Do you two want me to take you home?” Harry asked, “Or you can stay. Either way. Just don’t feel pressured to.”  
Dean and Seamus looked at each other, unspoken questions and answers in their eyes.  
“We’ll stay,” Seamus whispered, looking past Dean to Harry, “It’s Christmas Eve. We don’t want to be alone.”  
“Okay,” Harry said softly. Seamus stood up and helped Dean to his feet. They looked to Harry, who shook his head, “I’ll stay out with Draco for a moment.”  
Dean nodded and made his way with Seamus back into the house. Harry watched them go silently, then turned to Draco, who had his head in his hands.  
“Thank you,” Harry said, “You did a much better job telling them than I would have.”  
“Of course,” Draco murmured, taking his head out of his hands to glance at Harry, “I’ll always be there for you.”  
Harry’s heart gave a highly unwanted pang at this statement. Choosing to ignore his feelings, Harry addressed Draco, “I’m sorry I’ve been the most difficult prat to work with. I get mad and sad and I take it out on you. That’s not okay.”  
Draco broke his eye contact with Harry and looked down at his feet, “It’s okay, Harry. What we are doing isn’t easy.”  
What they were doing. What was that exactly?   
“Well,” Draco stood up and faced away from Harry as he took out his wand, “I need to get back home to Scorp. I have him this Christmas.”  
“Did you leave him?” Harry asked, shocked.  
“No, of course not,” Draco huffed, “He’s still with Astoria. We all were at her parents’ house for Christmas Eve.”  
Without another word, Draco raised his wand and disappeared into the blackness of the night, back to his son and ex-wife and another world Harry would never be a part of.   
\---  
“Goodnight, Molly,” Harry wrapped his arms around her as she and Arthur prepared to leave. It was well past midnight and the last of the Christmas Eve party goers had left. Molly, Arthur, Ron and Hermione had stayed late, as usual, to talk with Harry and Ginny into the night while their kids laid passed out in various beds and sofas throughout the house. The conversation had been a bit heavier than usual, what with the unexpected shift in Dean and Seamus’s behavior. The two hadn’t told everybody about the news they had received at the hands of Harry and Draco, but everyone knew something horrible had happened. Although the topic had been skirted around, Harry could tell his friends and family were dying to ask about what had caused Harry to leave the party so abruptly and why he had to have a talk with Dean and Seamus that left them in tears. Harry knew Dean, Seamus and Ron wouldn’t be telling anyone soon, unless a situation like the one he had with them arose. Harry trusted them to understand how crucial it was to keep the identity of Chann under wraps, even from their closest friends and family.   
As Molly pulled back and gave Harry a small smile, Harry felt his heart give a tug. Through all of this mess, Harry couldn’t help think about the other thing in his life causing him extreme pain. He could hardly look Molly in the eye. He couldn’t break her daughter’s heart. Or the hearts of his entire family, from his in laws to his own children. Draco wasn’t that important to him. But a part of him nagged, what if happiness was?  
Molly moved towards the door, revealing an awaiting Hermione with her arms outstretched, wanting her own hug.  
“Merry Christmas, Harry,” she mumbled into his shoulder as he pulled her into an embrace. Harry couldn’t see her face, but her voice said everything she was trying to convey. A thought occurred to Harry now. Hermione knew the truth, she knew he could be happier in another way of life. She knew his true self was somewhere else that wasn’t this home, in this life. And Harry knew Hermione would never let him forget that.  
Rose and Hermione left (Ron had left hours ago, claiming a stomach ache), leaving Ginny and Harry standing alone in their entry hall. The silence that fell over them after the noisy affair that was Christmas Eve felt suffocating. All Harry could focus on was the gaping hole in their marriage, the one that told him they were missing something Harry never knew they needed. Something Harry thought wasn’t possible. Something that Draco made him feel every damn time he talked to him.  
“Well,” Ginny said softly, “I’m going to go make sure the kids made it to their own beds.”  
Harry nodded, not looking her in the eye. He followed a moment after she left the room, moving Lily from the couch in the living room to her own bed as Ginny moved Albus (only James had crashed in his actual bed; Albus had managed to stretch his entire body across Ginny and Harry’s). One by one, he walked into each of his kids’ rooms, kissing them gently on the head and staring down at them in their peaceful slumbers. He imagined how promising their lives looked now. They had faced no real fears or sorrows, which is exactly what Harry and Ginny wanted for them after the horrific events of their own childhoods. Harry had wanted a family like the Weasley’s ever since he first met Ron and his family at King’s Cross Station so many years ago. He wanted the easy comfort and reassurance that came with two parents who loved you unconditionally. He got that with the Weasley’s after years of living in a special kind of hell with the Dursleys. Now he wanted his kids to have this feeling of love and safety, despite the unpredictableness of life. As long as their family life was solid, he hoped they would believe that everything would be okay. If he and Ginny were to end this safe haven they had created, he worried that he would destroy everything they had built for their family. Implode the very foundation that held them together.   
So when Harry walked back into the living room, where Ginny was sitting silently on the couch, he decided he would not tell her. Not now, maybe not ever. Their family deserved that.  
“Hey, Gin,” Harry faked a yawn, “I’m knackered. I’m going to head up to bed.”  
Harry turned without fully looking at Ginny and began to make his way towards the stairs. Before he could get far, however, Ginny spoke.  
“Harry!” she said loudly enough that Harry turned back around. She looked terrified, even more so as she began to cast silencing charms around the room.  
“Gin…” Harry whispered, his heart pounding. He couldn’t have a real, honest talk with her now, even if he had promised her just that. He didn’t have it in himself to lie to her anymore.  
“I have something I need to say,” Ginny stated, the small waver in her voice the only thing giving away the fact that she desperately did not want to have this conversation, “Something I’ve needed to say then longer than I’d like to admit.”  
Ginny took a deep breath and seemed to settle herself. She then looked directly at Harry and said, “I’m not happy, Harry. And I have a feeling you aren’t, either.”  
Harry stared at her, speechless. Was Ginny giving him the same talk he had been planning to give her?  
Ginny spoke again, the words seemingly dragged out of her, “I love you, Harry. I need you to understand that when I’ve said that to you, each and every time, I’ve meant it. But,” she began to cry softly, a rare sight on Ginny Weasley, “I don’t love you in...in...well… that way,” she finished, looking down at the floor.  
Harry crossed the room now, feeling the need to comfort her he has felt for years. He reached down for her hands and looked at her until she met his eyes.  
“Ginny,” he whispered, “Thank you for saying that. I’ve been meaning to say the same thing, but I didn’t know how.”  
Ginny gave a sudden stiff laugh that caught Harry off guard, “I don’t think this is how these conversations are supposed to go,” she said feebly.  
Harry shrugged, “Probably not. But we’ve always made our own rules, haven’t we?”  
Ginny nodded and pulled away from Harry, “That’s precisely how I feel. I’ve been telling myself for months that there is no logical reason for me not to be with you, Harry. But lately I’ve realized that we’ve been pulled together for so long that we felt like we were expected to end up together. So while we have both lived most of our lives with the goal of breaking expectations and doing what’s right for us and our family, we have slacked majorly in the relationship department,” she paused, “I think that’s why you quit your job, Harry. You felt the same way we now both feel about our marriage,” she froze and looked up at Harry, “I mean, how I believe we both feel.”  
“Gin,” Harry said, his voice shaking, “That is how I feel. I’m just… so scared of messing up our family.”  
Ginny nodded as she wiped away tears, “So am I.”  
Then suddenly, she began to cry in a way Harry hadn’t seen in years. She was shaking uncontrollably as Harry reached for and gave her a hug, He assumed she was just as worried about telling their children as he was. He couldn’t believe she was telling him all the things he had been thinking for the past couple months. Somehow, the person who understood his need to get out of his marriage most was his wife.   
Ginny pulled away, “Don’t hug me, Harry. You’ll only regret it. There’s another reason I needed to tell you I want a divorce, despite, you know, the general unhappiness.”  
Harry froze. The words divorce and unhappiness seemed so harsh paired together. The situation was becoming real, tangent. What else could Ginny have been hiding, despite the fact that she had clearly been contemplating these things for months?  
“What?” Harry whispered.  
“I…” Ginny took a long breath, “I ...”  
“What, Ginny?!” Harry exclaimed, his words coming out louder and harsher than he expected.  
“Cheated!” Ginny burst, “I cheated on you!”  
Harry’s brain began to spin, “For how long?” he whispered. He barely recognized his own voice, rough and detached from his body.  
Tears ran down Ginny’s cheeks, “Only once,” she whispered, “Unless you count the feelings I’ve had for months, edging on a year. Harry, I’m so sorry. I made a mistake. I was lonely and sad one night, and I didn’t think. But you were so distant, and you were constantly lying. I needed another source.”  
“So you cheated?!” Harry exclaimed, rage suddenly taking over him, “Do you know the feelings of longing and confusion I’ve been having lately! Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to cheat, but didn’t! I was torturing myself while you were going behind my back. No, our family’s back!”  
“What?” Ginny whispered, “Who is it, Harry? Who has made you so distant lately?”  
“Are you kidding me?” Harry shouted, “How is that relevant! I never cheated, and I’ve been dealing with tons more than you!”  
“How can you say that?” Ginny said, “I’ve had intense feelings of longing and confusion as well for a long while! I’ve fought them off for so long because I didn’t want to mess up what we have. You’re still my best friend, Harry. No matter what. And I made a mistake. But if you have feelings for some other woman, how is that any different?”  
“Well, first of all, I never made a move!” Harry exclaimed angrily, “And second of all, my feelings are for a bloke!”  
Ginny looked at him in surprise, “What?”  
“I’m queer!” Harry yelled, “I like more than just women. I’m not entirely sure how to label myself. I haven’t really figured that out yet. But that’s not what matters. The point is that I have had messy feelings for a man that I don’t know to deal with. That’s much different than your little affair with whatever wanker you’ve been pining after.”  
“Harry…” Ginny looked at him, so many unspoken words in her eyes, “I’m sorry.”  
Harry opened his mouth but Ginny held up her hand, “I need to talk. I don’t want Christmas Eve to become a battle of words and accusations. What I did, Harry, was wrong. Extremely wrong. I should have never cheated, regardless of the state of our relationship and feelings for each other. I do think you have a ton of explaining to do and that you are not clear of blame, but I do completely apologize for what I did. I want you to know that I’m terrified. But I know we can still figure this out together. Maybe this is all a bit much to say now, but I know we can figure out a way to live separately peacefully and without relationships with our kids falling apart. You mean so much to me, Harry, and you always will. As for you being queer… “ she paused.  
Harry turned to look at her shining eyes, “I’m happy you’ve become to figure out your full self,” Ginny spoke softly but strongly, “I’m honestly shocked. I can’t say I had any idea. But I do know that I support anything that will make you happy.”  
The two sat in silence for a while. Harry turned over what Ginny had said in his mind. The rage was ebbing away. He didn’t want to hate Ginny, not for this mistake. He wasn’t ready to drop the fact that she had cheated on him. Yet he didn’t want to yell anymore.  
“Ginny,” he broke the silence, “I don’t hate you for cheating. You’re right. I have been distant and just plain terrible for a while now.”  
“Now I know why,” she said softly, “Having a man crush is a lot to process.”  
Harry winced at this, “I’d like to remind you that the word ‘man crush’ is usually associated with a straight man finding another man attractive. This is not that.”  
Ginny laughed softly, “I know.”  
Harry looked down at the ground, bracing himself for his next question, “Who is it?”  
He could feel her gaze on him, “Blaise Zabini,” she half whispered.  
Harry’s head shot up, “What!”  
His mind raced at an impossible speed as he considered this. Blaise? What in the hell? He had been telling himself for the past couple weeks that Draco and Blaise were a couple. Had he been wrong?  
“I know,” Ginny said sheepishly as she began to pace the floor, “He…”  
“I thought he was with Draco!” Harry cut Ginny off.  
“What?” Ginny said, clearly surprised, “They are friends. Why would you think that?”  
“Because!” Harry sputtered, “They act like a couple! With how much time they spend together and how well they know each other, I thought it was obvious! And then there was that bloody rumor Seamus told us! I can’t believe it isn’t true!”  
Ginny gave him a strange look, “You seem much more excited than I anticipated.”  
“I’m not excited,” Harry huffed, “I just am surprised, that’s all!”  
“There’s something else…” Ginny narrowed her eyes. Suddenly she let out a loud gasp, “Wait a moment… it all makes sense!  
“What does?” Harry glanced at her hesitantly, hoping she was not piecing together what he thought she was.  
“You like Malfoy!” she yelled, much more accusatory than Harry would have liked.   
Harry’s heart dropped. He wasn’t ready for this, not now, not ever.   
“I…” he stuttered.  
“All those times you were out together…” she exclaimed, “I should have known! You’ve been so suspicious and dodgy about it all!”  
Harry sighed, “Okay. It’s true. I… like Draco.”  
Ginny shook her head, “I can’t believe this. All this time I’m pining after Blaise, worried of what my family will think, when you were developing a crush on Draco Malfoy!”  
“What does that mean?” Harry snapped heatedly.  
“Well, he was an ex-Death Eater,” Ginny said softly, “That doesn’t exactly scream healthy choice.”  
Harry huffed, “For your information, Draco has done more for wizarding society than anyone has in a long time!”  
Ginny raised her eyebrows, “How, exactly?”  
“He discovered what the poison from the Imperius attacks is!” Harry burst, immediately covering his mouth afterwards.  
“What?” Ginny gasped, “Are you telling the truth? How on earth could bloody Malfoy know that?!”  
Harry looked Ginny in the eyes. He chose this moment to trust her, to stop lying. He told her everything, from the first time Harry and Draco really talked at the Leaky to the awful conversation they had in Conference Room B after Draco found out about Chann. He told her how he was involved every step of the way.  
When he finished, Ginny just stared at the wall, mouth slightly agape.  
“Well?” he whispered, looking at her.  
“All this time,” she mumbled, “You’ve been putting yourself in danger to solve something that isn’t yours to solve?”  
Harry looked directly at her, “As long as Draco needs me, it’ll always be mine to solve.”  
She shook her head, “I can’t believe he did all that. I can’t believe you did all that. Without telling me.”  
“And you cheated without telling me,” Harry said deliberately, “We’ve both been leading our own lives, haven’t we?”  
“I didn’t lie for months,” Ginny whispered, her voice low and almost dangerous, “For months and months while you snuck around with someone who’s hardly trustworthy!”  
“Hardly trustworthy?” Harry locked eyes with Ginny, “I trust him with my life.”  
Ginny nodded. He could see her anger leaving, “You do, don’t you? I trust you enough to believe that.”  
He looked back at his wife. He was surprised at her sudden loss of anger, but that was the least strangest thing to happen in this conversation. She looked tired but relieved, a relieved look he realized that he hadn’t seen on her in years. Ginny always looked like she was holding back a secret tension. Now she looked free, unburdened.   
“No more lies,” he said to her.  
“I agree,” she said firmly, reaching out to grasp Harry’s hand, “And no more yelling. It’s fucking Christmas.”  
“Well, in the spirit of no lies,” Harry said, “I may have one more.”  
“How is that possible?” Ginny said exasperatedly.  
As she raised her eyebrows in anticipation, Harry told her about how he hadn’t been going to the therapy sessions they had talked about months ago.  
“Why, Harry?” Ginny asked softly when he finished, “I think they could really benefit you.”  
Harry shook his head, “I don’t know about that. I didn’t like having someone who doesn’t really know me tell me what is wrong with my life.”  
“Or maybe,” Ginny said, “You have dealt with your own problems, by yourself, for so long that you refuse to take real help from anyone. I do the same thing. Every day. I have thought for so long that it made me look weak to take real, authentic help from people. That’s what scared me about Blaise for so long. He’s always so eager to help, to make things better,” Harry looked away at this, knowing the reason this felt foreign to Ginny is because he was never so readily available for Ginny to confess her own feelings.  
“Harry,” Ginny grabbed his chin and pointed it up towards her, “Long story short, Blaise has given me an outlet to talk and address things about myself that I didn’t know I needed. Just don’t be afraid of real help. We both are still learning how to do that.”  
Harry thought of all the times Draco was there for Harry, in his own weird Draco way. Harry had hidden from these parts of their friendship. He had pushed Draco away for them. And now, Ginny of all people was helping him realize this wasn’t the answer.  
“You’re right,” Harry said.  
Ginny nodded and said nothing. Then she enveloped him in a hug that reminded him of the hugs she would give him their first years of marriage. When their relationship was still new and filled with laughter and promise. When they thought there was nothing more to love than being with someone who brought you joy. The truth was, Ginny would always bring him joy. She would always be a huge part of his life. But maybe he needed to open his heart up to what brings him real euphoria. Whether that involved therapy and/or Draco, he did not know. What mattered was that he was now ready to find out.


	9. Chapter 9

Despite the fact that Harry and Ginny decided to get a divorce the night before, Christmas was actually a lovely affair. The two had decided not to tell anyone until after the quidditch tournament the following week, giving time to let their kids enjoy the holidays and tournament without thinking about the end of their parents’ marriage. They spent Christmas day, as usual, at the Burrow with the entire family. Harry could never have envisioned the talk going the way it had. For weeks he had been dreading talking to Ginny, only to have her say the exact same thing he had been thinking to him first. He felt liberated. But as much as he wanted to pretend it was only because he was relieved he hadn’t broken Ginny’s heart (as it hadn’t been his to break for awhile), a part of him knew his cheerfulness stemmed largely from the discovery that Draco and Blaise weren’t a couple. Dwelling on this, however, made him feel a bit crazy. Just because Draco wasn’t with Blaise didn’t mean anything; he could still be with someone else. Or he could just not like Harry, which was infinitely worse for Harry to consider. Opting to ignore these feelings, he focused on Christmas and Boxing day, followed closely by “Ida and Harry” day. Otherwise known as the twenty seventh of December, this was the day Ida and Harry had set aside every year, as per tradition, to talk and relax while still on holiday. As he hadn’t talked to Ida much since he had come out to her after the hospital attack, he felt it was long overdue for them to have a long and good conversation.   
He apparated to Ida’s house on the evening of the twenty seventh, bottle of mulled mead in hand (Ida’s favorite). Ida’s living room matched Ida’s personality perfectly: orderly, but filled with a personality and scheme of bright colors unparalleled by any other. He admired once again the large Filipino flag Ida had embroidered herself that hung over her couch. Harry knew that while Ida did have negative experiences living under the Filipino Ministry throughout her childhood, she still held her culture in high esteem and did whatever she could to help make sure the new minister, Aquino, had everything she needed to provide for a new generation of Filipino wizards and witches smoothly. Ida still went back once or twice a year to aid her talents as an Auror and volunteer with private Ministry organizations.   
“Ida?” he called into the seemingly empty house. Ida could be anywhere without leaving a trace. She was a stealth expert, something Harry had been eternally grateful when she was his partner. Now it came off a bit eerie, to tell the truth.  
“Here!” Ida’s voice rang out briskly as she appeared behind Harry with a large plate of scones in her hand.  
Harry jumped. It had been a while since he had dealt with a classic Reyes sneak up.  
“Kamusta, Harry,” Ida laughed as she set done the scones on a small jeweled table (she had also designed the table; the girl was a machine) and patted Harry on the shoulder, “Guess you lost those Auror-like reflexes, bes.”  
“I never had impeccable reflexes in the first place, Reyes,” Harry responded, “I’m not your ‘mate’ anymore, then?”  
Ida frowned and began to undo one of the multiple braids swirling around her head, “No. That was a moment of weakness. I’m holding on to Filippino endearments, as they are far superior.”  
“I do like being called bes,” Harry noted, “It roughly translates to “best friend’, correct? Meaning you think of me as your nearest and dearest friend?”  
Ida laughed, “Bes is simply slang for a good friend. I’m not committing to this little best friend fantasy you’ve dreamt up.”  
Her hair was now half in braids and half hanging around her face. As she moved to weave her fingers through another strand, Harry spoke, “Who else would it be? And if you say Aviary, I understand but I will be severely disappointed.”  
Ida rolled her eyes and momentarily dropped her hair to reach for the mead still in Harry’s arms, “I’m going to need this if I’m going to get through this night alive.”  
Harry pulled a face that transformed into a smile seconds later as Ida retreated to the kitchen to get glasses, one hand still maneuvering through her hair. This is exactly what Harry needed; the easy banter that came with a good friend. A good friend who didn’t ask many questions and didn’t expect many answers. She might not even bring up Harry’s whole coming out after a near death situation that occurred two weeks prior. He certainly wouldn’t mind. Harry needed a night where he didn’t have to think about his future or his messy and uncontrollable feelings.   
Ida came back in moments later with two full glasses of mead. She handed one to Harry and then took a large swing of her own.  
“Damn, I love this fucking stuff,” she declared heartily, signaling Harry to cheers by raising up her glass. He clicked his glass against hers and smiled. The truth was, he had never really liked mulled mead. But he would never take away Ida’s happiness of him bringing a bottle year after year.   
“So,” Ida said as she reached for a scone, “I don’t want to talk about work tonight. My day was hell. Well, all my days are hell, but this one was like if an extra realm of hell was added. Anyway, I’m here to talk about personal life things. Which is abnormal for me, but we’re going to give it a whirl.”  
She said this all as she re-braided her hair in a braid Harry had never seen or could ever begin to explain. Amazed at her impressive multitasking, he didn’t answer until Ida gave him a pointed look.  
“Yes,” he agreed, “No work talk.”  
He was personally in favor of not bringing up anything that had to do with Aurors or the Ministry. He and Draco had made the decision not to tell anyone other than Ron and Padma about Chann, and he was going to stick to his word. Despite the fact he was still livid at Ron and Padma (he hadn’t spoken to either or them since Christmas), he still knew that opening up the investigation to any more Aurors was going to be even more of a disaster.   
“Okay,” Ida pulled a hair tie around the end of her braid and looked at him, a concerning look of determination brewing in her dark eyes, “I have a friend. We almost dated, but nothing came of it because he’s not my type. Too cheery, you know? Wouldn’t work with my admittedly darker stance on life.”  
Harry snorted at this, almost choking on a sip of mead. Ida sent him a glare, “Anyway,” she continued, “He’s single now. And bisexual. And highly attractive.”  
Harry looked away as a blush formed on his cheeks, “So? What does this have to do with me?”  
Ida sighed, “Harry, clearly I’m trying to set you up. I’m not good with relationship advice or advice in general, but Simon is a good bloke who you might be perfect for. Although, if you’re still into Seb or Steven or whatever his name was, you can tell me.”  
Harry shuffled awkwardly, “I didn’t think non-work talk meant diving into my relationship. You do know I’m still married, correct?”  
Ida huffed, “Of course I do! I assumed you and Ginny were getting a divorce. Am I wrong?”  
Harry rolled his eyes, “We are. But still, you thought instead of asking about that, it was a great idea to attempt to set me up with someone else?”  
Ida shrugged, “Yes. I don’t know if you just want a relationship with him or if you want time to deal with the divorce or if you need to spend time figuring out your sexuality.”  
“Figuring out my sexuality? How does shagging your friend help me do that?” he asked, confused.  
Ida looked impatient, “Because you need experiences with people other than the woman you’ve been with for most of your life! How are you to know anything about who you are if you have barely begun making your own choices?!”  
Harry turned to Ida angrily, “What does that mean?”  
“It means you need to learn to put yourself first,” Ida answered simply, “Wow, I really cannot stand talking about this,” she muttered this last part under her breath.   
“Then don’t,” Harry snapped, “And if most of my decisions aren’t made for me, it’s because I have three fucking kids to take care of. That comes before anything.”  
“I know that, Harry. I’m just saying, think of yourself too,” Harry looked at Ida now. She seemed extremely uncomfortable. Harry realized that Ida wanted to talk about this even less than he did. This was her way of letting Harry know she supported him completely and wanted him to find happiness. Harry could almost laugh at how much Ida’s approach at a supportive friend talk contrasted Hermione’s, who was nothing if not direct and filled to the brim with the desire to talk about feelings.   
“Thanks Ida,” Harry said, giving her a look that he hoped conveyed his gratitude. She looked weary for a moment, but then she gave him a soft smile that lit up her eyes.   
“Let’s talk about something else,” Harry suggested.  
“Gratefully,” Ida said glibly, “When are you going to fuck Seb then?”  
Harry did choke on his mead this time, “What the fuck? I thought we were done with the third degree over my love life.”  
Ida sneered, “I know why you are being so defensive, Harry. You like someone. Like really like someone. I’m an Auror at the top of my field. I can detect a simple infatuation. My guess is your heart is set on Seb, unless there’s someone else?”  
She asked this as if she already knew there was someone else. He wondered worriedly if she suspected anything about Draco. Deciding to ride the Seb train and ride it hard (excuse the double entendre), he said, “You’re right, Ida. Don’t act so smug about it, but yes. I like Seb.””  
“I knew it,” Ida said triumphantly, but something in her face suggested she didn’t quite believe him.   
Awkwardly picking at his scone, Harry grasped onto the topic of quidditch and the upcoming match. Ida, thankfully, latched onto this conversation, probably just as relieved to change the topic as he was. But as the two joked about how ridiculous Aries looked in the robes he always wore for matches, Harry couldn’t ease the nagging feeling that Ida suspected more than she let on. And if she was upset with Harry being Draco’s friend, she sure as hell wouldn’t want Draco to be his… boyfriend? Love interest? Harry didn’t know. But he did know that not having Ida’s support would drive him mad. If one of his best friends in the world, who was intelligent and accepting, couldn’t get behind the idea of Draco, then how could he expect anyone else to?  
\---  
Harry thanked Merlin for the heating charms as he sat down in his section of the bleachers. The early January air had stung his face as he walked with James, Al and Lily down to the quidditch pitch. The pitch had been set up months in advance by Blaise, Seamus and the rest of the Department of Games and Sports in the middle of a large abandoned field. Harry had used a designated portkey, just as he had many years ago for the quidditch world cup, to transport his family to the field located in the region of Cotswald. The walk from the portkey (a large bucket this time) to the pitch, albeit short, left Harry, his kids and the multiple other families who had taken the same portkey shivering and numb in the fingers and toes. As a result, the cozy warmth charmed throughout the seats surrounding the pitch was highly appreciated. Without them, there was no way Harry could withstand the cold or the consistent whining that would inevitably come from his three kids. As Harry situated Lily into her seat beside him and watched as James and Al ran up and down their row, he couldn’t help but realize this is how all his moments with his kids would be like from now on. Just him and the three of them, no Ginny. This thought made Harry feel empty. Was he doing the right thing, getting a divorce? Giving up the family he had created? Harry knew these doubts were pointless; Ginny wanted the same thing. There was no going back. And he wasn’t happy. He knew that. Logically. But the illogical part of him still wanted to do everything he could to protect his children.   
Bill and Fleur arrived then, walking across the row with Louis, Dom, Victore and Teddy in tow. Grateful for the distraction from his thoughts, Harry joined his kids in greeting them enthusiastically. Most of the Weasley family would be here today in support of Ginny and Angelina. They would all be sitting in the same row, making for an interesting game as support was torn between the two teams.   
“Who are you rooting for, Uncle Bill?” James demanded after he pulled back from a hug with his uncle.  
“You know I’m not partial to either side,” Bill said diplomatically.  
“You are too,” James insisted, “You’re just not telling us to keep me from getting upset.”  
“It’s true,” Victore piped up unhelpfully, “I’m almost positive he’s a Puddlemere fan.”  
“Shh!” Bill said, faking a worried expression as looked over at Ron, who was now arriving with Rose and Hermione, “Ron’ll hear!”  
“Uncle Ron!” Victore sang as he neared them, “Bill is supporting Puddlemere!”  
“And I called you my brother!” Ron accused. Harry wondered how much of his angry look at Bill was actually for show. Ron legitimately had a passion for Cannons that extended beyond brotherly love.   
As the kids all decided on the order they would sit in, Hermione gave Harry a long hug and pulled back with a look of sympathy that consumed her face and made Harry look away. Harry was glad that Ron hadn’t heard about any of Harry and Ginny’s love lives, because the two were already in an awkward enough situation as it was. It had been a week since Christmas, and Harry had been stalling working together on the investigation to prevent the multiple unwanted conversations that would follow. He was avoiding Ron and Padma because he was still so upset with them that he knew talking rationally at the moment wasn’t in his arsenal. He was avoiding Draco because, well, looking at him reminded Harry of everything that was confusing and messy and too damn complicated in his life.   
So as Hermione pulled away and moved to hug Fleur, Harry purposefully did not acknowledge Ron, who was standing directly behind her, and began talking to Teddy and Victore about Hogwarts. Christmas had been the usual Weasley chaos, leaving Harry with little chance to learn about how Victore and Teddy were adjusting to their first year as Hogwarts students. The two were beyond excited to talk about their new school and the things they had learned, allowing Harry to easily slip into a conversation that had nothing to do with the attacks or relationships or sexuality. As he talked with Victore and Teddy, more people began to show up and full up their row. Molly and Arthur arrived first, followed by George and his kids, Dean, Seamus, Luna, Neville and Hannah. Harry excused himself from the conversation to go talk to Dean and Seamus after they arrived to see how they were doing. The two seemed unexpectedly happy.  
“Hello, mate!” Seamus clapped Harry on the back as he sat temporarily in the empty seat beside them, Lily in his lap.  
“And hello to you, sweetheart,” Dean gushed, leaning over to give Lily a high five (a skill she was constantly glad to show off).   
“Are you ready for the match of the year?” Harry said loudly over the screams of Roxy and Fred (boy did Angelina and George have loud children).  
“Try the match of the decade!” Seamus exclaimed, “I would say century but I don’t think I could ever have as much fun as I did the night of the Quidditch World Cup.”  
Dean rolled his eyes, “Seamus, dear, Death Eaters basically announced the arrival of Voldemort that night. It should not be classified as the best night of your life.”  
Seamus huffed, “I didn’t know what was happening at the time! We thought it was some ridiculous prank, remember? Anyway, I never said it was the best night of my life,” he paused for dramatic effect, “It was clearly the night we saw the Weird Sisters in concert!”  
Dean heaved a loud sigh, “I guess I can only hope our wedding night made the top ten of your best nights.”  
“You wish,” Seamus said slyly, his laughter bubbling as he dodged a stinging hex from his husband.  
Harry beamed at the two of them, “I’m happy to see you are both enjoying your day.”  
Dean nodded as he slung an arm around Seamus’s shoulders, “Seamus has been waiting for this day forever. It would be impossible for him not to enjoy himself.”  
“It’s true,” Seamus confirmed. He leaned in to whisper to Harry, “And, we have decided that we are going to try and adopt. We are treating this extreme misfortune as a blessing in disguise. I mean, it would be amazing to give a kid born into an unfortunate life a good home.”  
“One that hopefully protects him from the hatred in this world,” Dean adds solemnly, leaning once again into Seamus’s touch.  
“That’s amazing,” Harry smiled softly as he looked in turn at both of his friends, “Truly. I know you two will make incredible parents.”  
Seamus and Dean smiled back in gratitude as George plopped down into the seat next to Harry.  
“What’s with all the seriousness over here? Who’s ready to see my wife take down Harry’s wife!”  
Harry squirmed a little at the term “wife”. It felt wrong to still associate him with Ginny when they both had spent months thinking of other men. But he re-engaged in the conversation to hear Seamus explain how he was not going to root for either of the teams, as he respected both for their hard work and dedication to the league.  
“Although,” he finished, “I bloody hate Aries Reyes.”   
“We all do,” George agreed, “But we all love Angelina!”  
“Your sister is on the Cannons,” Dean pointed out.  
“And I love her!” George insisted, “But my wife is a quidditch player. Going against her team would be some kind of marital crime.”  
“Go Puddlemere!” Roxy shouted, appearing behind George with a Puddlemere flag in hand. Harry noticed that both her and Fred were dressed head to toe in blue and gold.  
“Forcing quidditch opinions on them at a young age, eh?” Harry noted.  
“It’s never too soon,” George stated.  
“You are all ridiculous,” Fleur pointed out as she walked over with Dom, “Dom and I are cheering for both teams.”  
“No, I’m not!” Dom declared, “Uncle Ron said he would give me a galleon if I cheered for the Cannons!”  
“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed from her place a couple seats away as Rose said angrily, “I want a galleon!”   
Ron rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I needed more support! This whole family is becoming bloody Puddlemere fanatics.”  
Hermione rolled her eyes, “Yes, because Angelina is on the team! Ron, we should all lend support to both teams. Ginny and Angelina have both worked hard.”  
“Fine,” Ron sounded exasperated as he sat sulkily into his chair. Harry had a feeling he wouldn’t be cheering for Puddlemere anytime soon. Harry almost laughed at his friend when he remembered his anger with him and stifled it.  
“Oi, Potter!” a voice behind him caught Harry’s attention. He turned to see Healer Brayan, walking down the stands towards him, “I knew I would be seeing you here.”  
“Well, my wife is on the team,” Harry said, “There really isn’t anywhere else I could be.”  
Brayan beamed, “I wish I could stay and talk, but I have my own friend to get back to,” Harry watched as he waved at a woman a couple rows behind them.  
“Ah,” Harry said, “Have fun then.”  
“Go cannons!” Brayan exclaimed as he clapped Harry on the back and then left to go back to his seat.  
“Yes!” Ron shouted, wiping around in his seat, “That’s what I like to hear!”  
Harry rolled his eyes as he wandered back over to his own seat, between Lily and Luna. Thankful to have Luna at his side during the match, he began a lengthy conversation with her about Wrackspurts. Al, who was sitting on the other side of Lily, argued with Luna over the logic of Wrackspurts existing.  
“My friend Scorpius has read about every book imaginable on magical creatures and he had never heard of Wrackspurts,” Al insisted.  
“What does that prove?” Luna argued, “Books don’t prove anything.”  
“They prove many things!” Al said, “I asked Scorp about them and he said they didn’t exist. He said they were “the things the Quibbler made up” and that I shouldn’t believe the tall tales of many magical creatures outside of the Care of Magical Creatures book.”  
Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “When did you talk to Scorp about all of this?”  
“In the park,” Al stated, as if this was obvious, “Scorp is in the park a lot with his mum. Whenever Grandma Molly takes us there she lets us play with him.”  
Harry fought to hide his surprise about this. Since when did Molly let his kids play with Draco’s kid? Harry had no idea Al knew Scorpius so well. He had thought they had only met the one time in the park.  
“Look, Scorpius is right there!” Al pointed to his right, “I’ll ask if you can talk to him so you can understand where I'm coming from.”  
Harry’s head whips to the direction Al is pointing in. Sure enough, a few rows down, Scorpius is sitting there with not only his father, but Blaise and Pansy. The worst possible group Harry could talk to at the moment.   
Harry gripped onto Al’s shirt before he could turn to Rose and ask her to come along.  
“Al,” Harry said, “I think it’s best if we stay in seats at the moment.”  
Al gave him a disappointed look but said nothing. Harry was surprised at the lack of argument, especially since Harry had given no actual reason as to why Albus couldn’t go and talk to Scorpius. He could only assume Al didn’t want to push his luck on a day like this; he knew Harry wouldn’t buy him sweets later if he misbehaved now. Sometimes Harry forgot how diplomatic his children could be. Leaning back, Harry happily listened as Luna and Al moved on from the topic of Wrackspurts to talk about the origin of the Puddlemere logo (there was surprisingly a lot of murder in Luna’s version). After awhile, though, Harry couldn’t help himself. He shot a glance at Draco and his friends and family. To his surprise, Draco was no longer sitting in his seat. Harry quickly looked around and found Draco walking down the bleachers towards one of the side entrances. Draco was moving at a quick and determined pace, causing Harry’s stomach to turn.  
Without thinking, he told Luna he was heading to the loo and made his way through the legs of his family towards the side entrance. Harry looked through the swarm of people milling around the entrance, looking for the all too familiar blond head. After a few moments of searching, he spotted Draco alone, leaning against the bleachers with a notepad in his hand. Harry would have almost given a laugh at the sight of Draco scribbling furiously in the small notebook with his full size quill (which Harry assumed he just carried around with him) if it wasn’t for the look of panic on Draco’s face. Harry made his way through the crowd to him.  
Draco was so fixated on his writing he didn’t even glance at Harry as he approached. Harry braced himself and then gave Draco a small tap on his arm. Even that sent electricity up Harry’s arm. If something this small gave Harry an unexplained chill, how was he going to get through the next week? Or day?  
Draco started and almost jumped back at Harry’s touch. When he noticed it was Harry, he heaved a large sigh.  
“What do you want?” he snapped, anger accompanied with exhaustion filling his pale eyes.  
Harry back away in alarm, “To see if you are alright,” he said defensively, “I saw you leave your seat and I assumed the worst.”  
Draco hesitated, but then shook his head, “Everything’s fine,” he said shortly.  
“Then why are you so upset?” Harry asked softly.  
“I don’t know, let’s think,” Draco answered angrily, “Every time I talk to you, it’s something new. What are you going to do this time? Yell at me? Start ignoring me for a week for no apparent reason? Because you seem to be doing that a lot lately.”  
“I wasn’t ignoring you this time!” Harry insisted, “The holidays have been insane!”  
“That’s not what Granger-Weasley said when I talked to him,” Draco countered, “He said you haven’t wanted a meeting and that’s why we’ve been researching separately. Or at least I have. I don’t know what you’ve been doing the past week.”  
“I’ve been working on figuring out as much as I can,” Harry avowed, “And when have been talking to Ron?”  
“When I don’t hear much of anything from you!” Draco exclaimed, “Not to mention, you were the one who choose to trust Ron and Padma!”  
“We choose that together!” Harry yelled.  
A woman walking with her kids had stopped behind Draco to watch them. Harry gave her a weak smile until she left. Then he pulled Draco underneath the bleachers when no one was looking, realizing they shouldn’t be talking about this at one of the most crowded wizarding functions of England.  
Draco obliged half-heartedly by letting Harry pull him away. The light streaming from the cracks in the stands made Draco’s face look mysterious and almost regal in the half-darkness, making Harry’s stomach do an unhelpful turn that distracted him from their conversation. Draco looked momentarily caught off guard. He stared at Harry for a second, then shook his head in anger.  
“Harry,” he emphasized, “You can’t treat me this way. If you are uncomfortable working with me, you need to tell me instead of treating me with disrespect.”  
“I’m not uncomfortable working with you!” Harry exclaimed, feeling extremely guilty at the accusation, “I don’t want you to think that.”  
“Then why act evasive and angry all the time?” Draco asked, his voice tired.  
“Because I’m a wanker,” Harry held his arms up, “That’s just it. I’m a mess who’s dealing with a fuck ton of stuff at the moment, and I’m not handling it well. It has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me.”  
Draco nodded, seemingly processing this, “So you don’t want to cut me out of the investigation and just work with Padma and Ron?”  
“Of course not,” Harry said seriously. He avoided Draco’s strong gaze so that he wouldn’t see there was more to the story than that.  
“Really?” Draco asked.  
Harry sighed, “I don’t want you out. I promise.”  
Draco’s eyes widened as he realized something, “But Ron and Padma do.”  
Harry hesitated, then nodded.  
To his surprise, Draco didn’t look angry. He just looked sad. Harry watched as he sat down on a large beam and put his face in his hands.  
Confused, Harry moved to set down beside him, “Draco?”  
“What will it take?” Draco whispered through his hands, “For people to realize I’m trustworthy?”  
Harry stared at him. Draco’s voice was weak, weaker than he had ever heard it. Harry realized Draco must have been holding this feeling in for so long. The feeling of desperately wanting to atone for your past but knowing that may never be completely possible.  
Harry reached out and placed his hand on Draco’s shoulder before his brain could tell him this was a bad idea, “Draco, it wasn’t about that. Ron and Padma trust you.”  
But even as he said this, Harry knew it wasn't completely true.  
Draco shook his head, “No, it’s always about that. I’m an ex-Death Eater. That’s something I can never erase from myself. I will never truly be a valued part of the wizarding community.”  
“Draco, that’s not true…” Harry began, but Draco cut him off.  
“Don’t start, Harry. Don’t waste your breath. All I can do is hope I’m not fired anytime soon,” Draco said, defeated.  
“Draco…” Harry started again. Draco opened his mouth to cut him off again, but Harry held up his free hand to silence him.  
“No, I have something to say,” he asserted, “I’m not going to lie to you. Being an ex-Death Eater is something that taints who you are. There’s no way around that. But Draco, just because the past exists doesn’t mean it has to define who you are going to be. I have never, in my entire life, met someone who cares so much about atoning for the wrongs they committed. You work every single day to bring justice to our community. I can easily say no one impresses me more. Draco, I was the person who hated you most while we were growing up. I saw you as nothing more than a devious child who would soon aid to the Dark Arts. But, as a think back, that’s not all I saw. I was also intrigued by you. A part of me always knew you were more than you let on. You were so quick to defend yourself, so quick to hide anything real about yourself, that it made me wonder who you really were. And now I know. The real you, the one you defined all by yourself, is the most extraordinary person I have ever met. Yes, you’re defensive. And confusing. And bloody complicated. But you inspire me everyday with your compassion and your relentless drive to fight for what’s right. Draco,” Harry finished, almost out of breath, “You are so much more than your past. The people that matter will see that.”  
Silence followed Harry’s words. It took all that was left of his nerve to turn and look at Draco, who chose that exact moment to look back at him. Draco’s eyes were wide with an expression Harry didn’t quite recognize, one that made his stomach do cartwheels after one glance. Not knowing what to do, he opted for what he did best in awkward situations: talk.  
“Draco…” he started again, but he was cut off as Draco leaned in.   
Before Harry knew what was happening, Draco’s lips were on his. The world imploded around Harry as a forceful feeling of desire overtook his body. He arched into the kiss, hands finding their way into Draco’s hair almost as if they had a mind of their own. Draco’s hands were on the back of his neck and his tongue collided hotly with Harry’s own. He moved to deepen the kiss, pulling Draco closer and basking in the warmth tingling throughout his entire body. His brain flooded with thoughts of vanilla and his skin ached with a feeling equivalent to fire spreading just underneath his surface. He had never felt so alive, so sure of what he was doing.  
Too soon, Draco pulled away, a small moan escaping from him that sent waves of desire through Harry’s body once again. Lust consumed Draco’s eyes and made them dark with desire. Harry placed a hand on the side of Draco’s face and went to move in once again when Draco jumped up from his spot on the beam, dropping Harry’s arm to his side.  
Draco stared at him for a second, a look of panic overtaking him. Harry tried to find something to say but felt like his brain was moving too fast to produce intelligible words. Draco turned and began to run towards the edge of the bleachers, leaving Harry in a cocoon of desire and longing so acute he didn’t know if he could get himself to move. Slowly, he got up and made his way to the loo. There was no way he could face his family now when everything, from his tousled hair to stinging lips, suggested he had just made out with a bloke underneath the bleachers at the most important match of his wife’s career.  
\---  
As much as Harry wanted to take the first portkey home, this was obviously not an option. Although, if his kids weren’t waiting up in the bleachers, Harry may have considered it. With Draco sitting a few rows away, this night was going to be pure torture.  
Even the match, which is one of the closest and most intriguing he has ever watched, couldn’t distract him. As his family cheered heartedly as Angelina scored her first goal, he remained silent, watching Draco out of the corner of his eye. Draco, the constant master of normalcy, seems to be enjoying himself fully as he talked avidly to his son and Blaise, who were sitting on either side of him. It made Harry feel almost as if he had imagined the kiss. Clearly, that wasn’t the case, but it would have made much more sense. The last thing Harry had expected when he pulled Draco under those bleachers was for him to kiss Harry. To fulfill the longing Harry had felt for weeks. Had it been a moment of weakness? Draco had been the most emotionally vulnerable Harry had ever seen him. Harry’s kind words probably made him feel good in the moment and he lost his cool and kissed Harry. How else could the look of panic and regret in Draco’s eyes be explained? Was Harry nothing more than a panicked kiss in the face of loneliness?  
“Harry?” Luna’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts, “Did you even watch that last play?”  
Harry looked at the scoreboard. Fifty to Seventy, with Puddlemere leading. Angelina was soaring through the air, a fist of triumph raised. She must have scored again.   
“Go Angelina!” Harry yelled weakly, smiling beside himself as Lily repeated his shout.  
“Harry?” Luna asked again, “What’s wrong? I thought you loved quidditch.”  
“Nothing, Luna,” Harry responded, harsher than he had anticipated. Even Lily gave him a worried look. Luna peered at him for a moment and then turned to talk to Neville, who was on the other side of her. Harry sighed and forced himself to watch the match. That was what he was here for, anyway.   
Despite his ongoing panicky thoughts, Harry managed to get into the match. Both teams were fascinating to watch. When one of Ginny’s chasers swung from her broom and managed to hit the quaffle in as the Puddlemere beaters aimed the bludger at her, Harry was so impressed that he temporarily forgot to look at Draco. He appreciated his kids' company for the further distraction. Listening to Rose and Al fight over the match was both hilarious and highly entertaining.   
“Hesser couldn’t score a goal if someone put him a foot in front of it and put the keeper on the other side of the field!” Rose yelled. Hesser was one of the Cannon’s chasers.  
“Oh yeah!” Al said angrily, “Brickston couldn’t find the snitch if it was the size of a blimp and had sirens attached to it!”  
“Just you watch!” Rose glared at her friend, “Brickston will get the snitch. I’ll bet a galleon!”   
“No one’s betting!” Hermione piped up from Rose’s other side, “My child is not learning to gamble before she’s lost all of her teeth.”  
Rose said a rather hostile “fine” to her mom and then turned back to the game. But when Hermione wasn’t looking, Harry saw her pull out a galleon and hold it up to Al to show she intended the bet to be anything but off. Deciding to let them enjoy themselves, Harry turned away without showing indication he had seen this exchange.  
The score was now one-twenty to one hundred with Puddlemere leading. This was causing rather foul language from Ron, who at one point shouted that, “Angelina was too fucking good to be allowed to play!”, causing a laugh of triumph from George and a scolding from Molly. Thankfully the intensity of the match was lessened as the group spotted a man wheeling a concession cart. If anything was going to bring a family together and simultaneously distract Harry from his feelings, it was food.   
“Pretzels!” exclaimed Lily from beside him, “Can we have some, Daddy? Please?”   
Harry was fully prepared to say yes when he remembered taking food from a stranger at a time like this was anything but a good idea. The security measures at the match were the best the Ministry could provide; Harry had never seen so many Ministry officials at a match in his life, and he had been to a quidditch world cup. Harry also knew that Blaise, Seamus and the entire Games and Sports Department had worked hard to do background checks on anyone serving food or doing any other service at the match. So, before answering his daughter, Harry stole a glance at Blaise. To his relief, Blaise was beaming as he ordered two large pretzels from the trolley wizard. Taking this as a sign of safety- Blaise would know if these vendors weren’t approved- Harry told his kids they could get whatever they wanted. All of them wanted pretzels, so Harry asked the wizard for four pretzels. After paying for them, he passed them out and watched as the kids gave signs of contentedness upon biting into the pretzel. He had to admit: the pretzel hit the spot. As the trolley wizard moved down the row, Harry continued to watch the match. He turned to Luna to strike up a conversation, suddenly in a much better mood, when Luna grasped his arm and shouted, “Look!”  
Harry’s head whipped back towards the match. Kingston must have spotted the snitch, because his broom was soaring across the field at a speed Harry knew all too well. The Cannons seeker, Alisha Waint, was on his tail. Harry and the rest of the stadium held their breath as he watched the race towards the snitch. The only one who seemed to be moving besides the seekers was the trolley wizard, who was still determined to sell his food. Harry watched Waint creep up on Kingston until the two were neck in neck. Ginny had been right about her seeker; the girl sure could fly. Then, suddenly, Waint did a nose dive towards the ground while Kingston continued to soar forward. Kingston stopped moments later, and looked, like the rest of the stadium, at Waint. She had landed feet first on the ground and had one arm in the air. In a moment of heavy anticipation, she opened her fist, revealing the snitch captured inside. A roar of cheers burst throughout the stadium. Harry saw Ginny run across the field, red hair flying as she launched herself at her seeker and embraced her in a triumphant hug. Harry jumped to his feet and cheered at the top of his lungs as pride for Ginny overcame him. He reached down to pick up his daughter, who was screaming herself hoarse, when a blood-curdling scream pierced through the waves of cheers.   
The joyous cheers were rapidly declining into one’s of fear, of pain. Instinctively, Harry reached down to grab his daughter. He then looked frantically around the stands, trying to figure out what was going on. From what Harry could tell through the thick commotion, many people had collapsed from their seats onto the ground. Imperius attacks. Harry grabbed his wand, ready to fight, when a scream he knew all too well rang out over the chaos. Turning towards the sound, Harry saw the thing he feared most; Ron, screaming and rushing towards a figure lying on the ground. Without hesitation, Harry handed Lily to Al, who was sitting in shock next to him. He shouted to Molly and Arthur to apparate his kids away. Then he rushed over to where Ron is crouched over on the ground, already firing spell after spell on his poisoned wife.   
“Draco!” he yelled desperately as he bent down next to Ron, “I know what to do,” he says to Ron, trying to keep calm and focused.   
Ron was far less than willing to give the care of his wife over to Harry. Ron attempted to cast another charm (one Harry knew won’t do much of anything), when Draco appeared at Harry’s shoulder. Without warning, he shoved Ron to the side and began a round of spells Harry never would have thought to use. Draco’s extensive research on Chann was coming into good use.  
“Harry,” Draco’s voice came out rough but strong, “Hold an anapneo while I finish these next round of charms.”  
Harry complied, focusing on casting the strongest spell he could so that it would hold up alongside Draco’s rapid fire of charms. He knew the spells were working, as Hermione’s violent shaking was slowly easing and her breathing was becoming steadier. When she finally stopped shaking altogether, he felt Ron’s hand grab his arm. Harry turned to his friend now. He had never seen Ron look so scared in his life. He was shaking violently himself, and his eyes were wide with fright. Harry hoisted his friend up.  
“She is going to be fine, mate,” Harry said sternly, although they both knew what had been done to Hermione was far from fine, “Go and help get others to safety.”  
Ron shook his head, his eyes locked on Hermione. Harry looked around desperately and spotted Dean, who was arguing with Seamus.   
“You need to go!” Seamus shouted, “Now!”  
Dean began to argue, but Harry rushed towards them, Draco and Ron hoisting up Hermione behind him, “I agree,” he said hurriedly to Dean, “Get to safety at Mungos and take Hermione with you.”  
Dean hesitated for a second before holding up his wand and grabbing Hermione. Draco let go of her legs but Ron wouldn’t let go of her arms.  
“Ron,” Harry grasped his friend’s shoulder, “She’ll be in good hands.”  
Ron said nothing but slowly let the death grip he had on Hermione’s arms go. As Dean and Hermione disappeared into nothingness, Ron let out a wail that set Harry’s hair on edge. The last thing Harry wanted to do was turn away from his closest friend at his lowest moment, but he knew what he needed to do next. He turned around to make sure his kids had gotten away safely. To his relief, the only people in his family remaining were Bill, George, Luna, Neville, Hannah and Seamus, who were now all casting spells against Kareach members. Harry didn’t spot any green beams of light. The Kareach members were not aiming to kill innocent pure bloods or half bloods. Harry knew it would only be a matter of time until this changed. Sure enough, one of the masked figures spotted Draco and shouted. Without waiting to see what would come of this, Harry grabbed Draco and apparated to St. Mungos.   
As they appeared in the canteen, Draco turned furiously towards Harry, “What was that for? I’m the only one who knows exactly how to control the seizures! I need to be at the match!”  
Draco held up his wand in an attempt to apparate back, but Harry was too quick for that. He cast an expelliarmus and caught Draco’s wand as it flung itself towards him. Draco huffed angrily and lunged for the wand in Harry’s hand, but Harry cast a shield around him. Ignoring Draco’s loud profanities, Harry concentrated on sending a patronus. Draco, surprisingly, quieted down as Harry gave the patronus directions.  
“I am at St. Mungos with Draco. We both are safe. Draco knows the best way to revive victims. Please apparate people to the Mungos canteen straightaway,” Harry said. He then focused on his patronus reaching his friends fighting at the quidditch pitch.   
To Draco, he said, “There. We can help from here, where you’ll be safe.”  
Draco nodded. He looked reluctant yet determined, so Harry chose to trust that he would do as Harry had said. Harry reversed the shield and handed Draco’s wand back to him. A moment later, Hannah appeared with a young blonde woman in her arms. The woman was turning a bright orange and shaking uncontrollably. Draco immediately took her from Hannah, instructing Harry what to do as he lay her on the ground and began his round of spells. When the woman stopped shaking, Harry took this as his chance. He used a sonorus spell to magnify his voice, hoping he had properly learned to create one that reached all throughout the hospital.  
“Victims are now being sent directly to the canteen!” Harry shouted, “Any available personnel needed.”  
He then turned back to Draco, where two new victims had arrived, being supported by Padma and Aviary.   
“Aviary, cast the shock spell on him!” Draco instructed, referring to the large man she had apparated in with who was shaking harder than the rest of them. As Draco fired spell after spell, he yelled at Padma to cast anapneo on her patient. Harry rushed towards Padma and began to replicate the charms Draco had cast on Hermione and the blond woman moments ago. Thankfully, his own research and his ability to learn quickly in urgent situations paid off; the charms he had cast worked and the man was shaking less and less as Harry continued to fire spells.   
This rhythm of patient after patient continued. Harry poured everything he had learned from his healing training and his long talks with Draco to revive every patient put in front of him. With Draco beside him casting the same spells he felt invincible. After he finished helping a short man with long black hair, he turned to help another patient, but no one was there. He looked around and realized that every victim was either being assisted by a healer or had been taken to an actual hospital room.   
Draco was looking around as well, his wand still gripped tightly in hand. When he noticed Harry, his eyes seemed to darken and he turned away and rushed to help a healer. Harry stared at him until he heard a familiar, and very frantic, voice coming from behind him.  
“Where is she?” Ron demands, “Is she okay?”  
In all honesty, Harry had no idea how Hermione was doing now, but he nodded.   
“She’s probably on the third floor because she arrived first. That floor is actually for patients who’ve taken poison.”  
“Then let’s go!” Ron rushed towards the lift. Harry went after him.  
“Ron!” Harry shouted, “Is everything okay at the pitch?”  
“What?” Ron said, “Oh… yes. The fighting has stopped and all of the muggleborns were either evacuated to you or taken with Healer Patrick and her team. Few casualties, too; only Youll and two muggleborns so far.”  
He said all this stiffly and without looking at Harry.  
“Youll?” Harry asked, “As in Remmins’s partner Youll?”  
Ron didn’t answer. The lift had reached the third floor and he was out as soon as the doors opened. A healer was walking quickly down the hall right outside of the lift doors. Ron stopped him.  
“Where is Hermione Granger- Weasley’s room?” he demanded, his voice bordering on violent.  
The man looked alarmed but held his ground, “Room 316. She…”  
Ron didn’t stay to hear more. He rushed down the hall. Harry had to nearly sprint to keep up. When they reached the outside of the door, Ron practically flung it off of its hinges as he threw it open.  
“Hermione!” he shouted, running toward her. To Harry’s surprise, Hermione was not asleep. Draco’s spells must have worked wonders. She was sitting up in bed, still orange as a carrot, but awake and seemingly alert.  
As Ron threw himself around her, she melted into his embrace. Both of them began to cry, but Ron’s wails had no hint of relief. Harry was frozen in the doorway. He could never imagine being in their situation. He knew Ron and Hermione had talked about having another kid. Whether or not that was true, it was nothing short of a tragedy that they would never even have the chance to make that a reality.  
When Ron pulled back from Hermione, Harry moved further into the room so that Hermione could see him. She smiled widely when she spotted him. Harry began to make his way towards the bed to embrace her as Ron had, when Ron let out a wail. He stopped and turned to look at his friend and then fell to his knees with his face in his hands. Ron had never been much of a crier, due to years of fearing torment from his older brothers, so this loud and obvious show of emotion cast an immediate tension over the room.  
Harry bent down to place a hand on Ron’s shoulder as Hermione asked, “Ron? I’m going to be okay. Honey, I’m here and alive. It’s okay.”  
Ron sobbed harder at this. Harry gripped his friend’s arm and tried to get Ron to look him in the eye.   
“Ron?” Hermione’s voice sounded from over his shoulder. This caught Ron’s attention. He jumped up and out of Harry’s grasp and rushed to Hermione’s side.  
“Get back into bed!” he shrieked, “Don’t make it worse!”  
“Make what worse?” Hermione asked gently. Harry watched as she attempted to look straight at Ron, but he was purposefully avoiding her eye contact.  
“Ron?” she said again, her voice a whisper, “What’s going on?”  
“Hermione…” Ron hesitated, then seemed to make a decision, “No. You need your rest. You’ve been through enough today.”   
Suddenly it came to Harry why Ron was so upset. Why he couldn’t control himself, why he couldn’t bring himself to tell Hermione what was going on. Harry thought about Christmas and Christmas Eve, where Hermione had been the only one not drinking, insisting she hadn’t been drinking as much lately. No one questioned this, as Hermione had never been much of a drinker. But every Christmas, Hermione never failed to have a glass or two of wine from the local brewery that only opened for the holidays. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to drink; it was that she couldn’t.   
“You’re pregnant?!” Harry blurted.  
Ron dropped the blanket he had grabbed for Hermione and stared at Harry with a look of complete petrification on his face. Hermione, however, didn’t look nearly as fearful.  
“Yes!” she gasped, “How did you guess?”  
Harry didn’t want to answer, because that would entail explaining about how the only way Ron would still be this fearful was if Hermione was pregnant at the moment of the attack. Both he and Ron sat in a gruesome silence until Hermione huffed impatiently.  
“Someone needs to tell me what is going on!” she said, “If you’re worried about my health, the healer said I would make a full recovery.”  
Ron shook his head, “The healer doesn’t know everything, Hermione.”  
Hermione looked from Ron to Harry, “What doesn’t the medical profession not know that you two do?”  
Harry looked at Ron. He didn’t know how to explain to Hermione that her baby, the one she was already carrying, was most likely in mortal danger.   
It took all of Harry’s remaining courage (which was hardly any, after the day he’d had) to tell Hermione the truth.  
“Draco discovered what the poison is and what it does,” Harry told her, in what he hoped was a calming tone.  
“Draco did?!” she asked, clearly surprised, “How? What does he have to do with any of this?”  
“He has been working on investigating Kareach,” Harry explained, banking on Hermione knowing about the rumors.  
“Kareach? The rumored Voldemort- esque society?” Hermione asked skeptically, “Once again, what does that have to do with any of this?”  
“Never mind that!” Ron broke in angrily, “We know the poison prevents reproduction!”  
Harry froze as Hermione looked at her husband, “What?” she whispered.  
Ron went to her side and grasped her hand. His pale face, lined with worry, told Harry the last thing Ron wanted to do was explain to Hermione about Chann. But Ron began to speak, his voice strong despite the sadness in each word.  
“The poison used in the Imperius attacks is called Chann. It’s a rare poison, native to Cambodia. I looked over all of Draco’s notes, and this poison fits the side effects of the attacks perfectly. Unfortunately, the purpose of this poison is to prevent anyone who ingests it from reproducing…”  
“Making it the perfect poison to halt the lineage of muggleborns,” Hermione finished. Her voice sounded detached from herself, as through it was somewhere else entirely.  
She stared at the wall, perfectly silent. Harry stood watching them in the tense silence. For the first time during one of their battle scene aftermaths, he felt out of place, like he was intruding. But he knew leaving the room wasn’t an option. He just wished there was any way, any possible way, to make this situation better.   
Harry startled as the door suddenly opened wide behind him and the telltale sounds of his family filtered into the room. Turning around, he watched as almost all of his friends and family from the match made their way through the doorway. Harry spotted his own kids, all clinging onto Ginny. When the kids saw Harry, they rushed over to give him a hug. He wrapped his arms around his children and said soft reassurances as he kept his eyes on Hermione, who was trying and failing to keep her composure as her entire family tells her how happy they are that she is okay. At his shoulder, Harry hears a familiar voice,   
“Weasley clan and company,” Healer Patrick commands the room with her voice, “I know you all want to give Hermione your love, but she is not fit to have this many visitors at this time. I thought Dean told you?”  
“Oh, he did,” George confirmed, “But Weasley’s don’t listen to rules when family’s involved.”  
“I understand,” Healer Patrick said sympathetically, “However, now that you all know she is okay, I’m going to need you to clear out to give her the space she needs to recover.”  
There were plenty of grumblings, but slowly the group said their goodbyes to Hermione and told her reassurances (assuming her tears for solely trauma from the attack). Soon, the only people in the room were Ron, Harry and Rose, who was now lying on the bed, curled up in her mother’s embrace. Hermione was gently stroking her daughter’s face. She didn’t say anything. None of them did. They didn’t know what could be said.  
Harry moved towards the bed to tell Hermione goodbye, when Healer Patrick handed him Hermione’s chart.  
“You keep tabs on her for the next hour. Stay in this room, provide general check-ups about every fifteen minutes. Do you understand?” Harry nodded, trying to hide his surprise at the level of trust Healer Patrick was giving him in this moment. However, as soon as Patrick said a brisk goodbye and left the room, he wished she had been the one to stay with Hermione. He had no idea how to comfort a woman who found out she had taken a poison that had the ability to kill her child.   
“Hermione?” Harry asked softly, almost hoping she didn’t hear him.   
She looked up, “I can’t lose him,” she whispered, he voice containing a sadness Harry couldn’t begin to describe.   
“Lose who, mommy?” Rose asked, her eyes wide as she shifted to look up at her mom.  
When neither of her parents answered, Rose narrowed her eyes, “I’m not a baby. You can trust me with whatever you’re worried about.”  
Before Ron or Hermione could answer, there was a knock at the door. Harry went to open the door. He stumbled backwards when he saw who it was.  
“Is it fine if I come in?” Draco asked. He looked absolutely exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair reminded Harry’s of his own throughout his childhood: wild with no sense of direction. Harry thought unwillingly about how attractive this was on him, then scolded himself for thinking of anything but Hermione at the moment.  
Harry opened the door wide to let him in. A moment later, something happened that Harry couldn’t have predicted in a million years; Ron moved swiftly across the room and threw his arms around Draco.  
Saying Draco looked stunned was an understatement. After a moment, Draco placed his arms awkwardly around Ron and looked at Harry in confusion. Ron pulled back and began thanking Draco.  
“Without you, Hermione could have been much worse off,” Ron said, “She may not have even made it. I can’t express my gratitude enough.”  
Draco nodded, “I wasn’t about to let her die from this terrible poison. And I couldn’t have done it without Harry.”  
He said this without actually looking at Harry. Was Draco ever going to look him in the eye again?   
“Draco,” Ron said now, his voice filled with a desperate urgency, “I need to be honest. I told Harry not that long ago that I wanted you off this case. I also told Harry that it was nothing personal, and while I believed that myself, the truth is I was still very weary of you. Despite what Harry has told us. But the way you came to the aid of so many muggleborns tonight, including Hermione, proves that you are the person Harry told me you are. I’m so sorry, Draco. We need all the help from you that we can get.”  
“Granger- Weasley… I mean Ron,” Draco emphasized, “I appreciate you saying all of that. I want to help in any way I can.”  
Suddenly something occurred to Harry. As Ron went to answer Draco, Harry interrupted, “Draco! I need to talk to you,” he looked at Rose, watching intently from her position on the bed, “Outside.”  
Draco looked alarmed but nodded to Ron and Hermione and followed Harry into the hallway.  
“What did you realize?” Draco asked.  
“How did you know I realized something?” Harry wondered.  
“The face you made. It’s the same face you make whenever you realize anything,” Draco explained. If Harry wasn’t mistaken, he thought he saw a blush creeping onto Draco’s cheeks. At that moment Harry fully registered this was the first time they’d been truly alone since the kiss. Knowing it wasn’t the time or place, he said to Draco, “When you read off the things you learned in Cambodia about Chann, you said something about victims that were already pregnant, didn’t you?”  
Draco nodded, “Yeah. Women who are already pregnant aren’t infected. The poison has no effect on already partially developed babies.”  
Harry felt relief coarse through his whole body, “I knew it! Thank goodness!”  
With that, he threw open the hospital room door and ran to Hermione’s bedside. He then threw his arms around Hermione and Rose.  
“The baby’s fine!” he yelled joyously, “Chann doesn’t affect babies that already exist!”  
“What?” Hermione pulled him back to arms length and looked at him, “Are you certain?”  
Harry looked back towards the door where Draco was standing, “Draco confirmed it! And he studied Chann in Cambodia.” Harry stood up and moved away to allow Ron to hug his wife, both crying uncontrollable tears of joy. Harry watched them for the moment: the relieved Ron and Hermione and the confused but crying Rose until he turned back to the door. Draco was still standing there, one hand on the doorframe as he watched Ron and Hermione. When he saw Harry was looking at him, however, he looked quickly away and slipped out the door without another word.


	10. Chapter 10

He couldn’t explain the bout of courage that had brought him to the front of Draco’s flat. He couldn’t explain why he had apparated here directly after leaving St. Mungos. He especially couldn’t explain what he was planning on saying to Draco. Blocking out the numerous protests and hesitations buzzing around in his mind, Harry knocked on the door. He considered fleeing for a weak moment as he waited for Draco to answer (he knew from a Healer that Draco had gone home to get some sleep), but he made himself stay rooted firmly in front of Draco’s door.   
The door swung open, revealing a clearly exhausted Draco. He was still dressed in the clothes he had worn to the quidditch match, which were now tattered and dirty. This was the first time Harry had ever seen Draco in anything that wasn’t spotless and somehow gleaming (he hadn’t known clothes could gleam until he met Draco). When Draco realized who it was, he shook his head and began to shut the door.  
“No,” Draco said tightly, “Not right now. I can’t do this right now.”  
“Oh yes, you can,” Harry forced the door open and strode into the flat. He let out a small gasp as he caught sight of the room. The entire living room had been converted into an intensive investigation center. Papers and books were stacked on every available service, and where posters had once hung on the wall were list after list of what Harry could only assume was Draco’s ideas, thoughts and research. Although Harry had been helping to find out anything he could about Chann these past couple weeks, his main focus had been on his confusing love life. All Draco focused on was putting all his available energy into learning about Chann and Kareach.   
“Draco?” Harry said softly, picking up a paper that seemed to be almost entirely in a foreign language, “Have you slept in the past three weeks?”  
“I’m doing something important,” Draco huffed, “I thought we both were. But clearly I’ve been much more dedicated.”  
“I’m dedicated!” Harry insisted, “I already told you I am! That doesn’t mean we aren’t allowed to spend any time on our personal lives.”  
Draco stiffened, “Harry, if you’re here to talk about what happened today… under the stands…”  
“Of course I’m here to talk about that!” Harry nearly shouted. He steadied himself and looked at Draco. He opened his mouth to continue, but found he didn’t really know how to talk about it.  
Draco shook his head and began to walk across the room to the door, “Personally, I don’t think there’s anything to talk about. I had a moment of weakness. I shouldn’t have lost control of myself like that. But I was sad, and lonely, and you were there with supportive, and well, friendly, words.”  
Draco opened the door and waved his arm towards the hallway, “So, if you don’t mind, I would like some sleep.”  
Harry gritted his teeth, “You’re not serious? That’s it? A lapse of judgement? I didn’t get the kiss I’ve been waiting for just for you to tell me it was nothing but a mistake!”  
“The kiss you’ve been waiting for?” Draco asked, his hand now frozen on the doorknob.  
“Yes!” Harry exclaimed, “I mean, yes. Yes I do like you. Yes I wanted to kiss you.”  
Draco sneered, “Yeah, right. I’m going to fuck around with the most famous wizard of our time behind his wife’s back as he figures out his sexuality only to decide he’s straight and move on. Brilliant idea, Potter.”  
Harry stared at Draco. He couldn’t believe he would be so harsh. He had thought Draco understood him better than that.  
“This isn’t some phase, Malfoy'' Harry scowled, “If you had given me the chance to actually talk to you, I would have told you that Ginny and I are getting a divorce. That neither of us have been happy in our marriage for a while. I would have also told you that I like you. That I don’t just tell every person I meet that they are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. For you to think that I would only want to be with you in secret, behind Ginny’s back, is just cruel.”  
He stared at Draco, refusing to back away. Refusing to hide his feelings any longer. Draco wouldn’t look back at him. Finally, Draco muttered,   
“I’m not about to be your gay rebound, Potter,” he held the door open, wider, “You and I would never work out. Like I said, I shouldn’t have kissed you. Consider it the mistake it was and move on.”  
Harry felt numb with anger, “You are unbelievable,” he said harshly, moving past Draco and apparating in the hall.  
\---  
“Ginny!” Harry called into the house as soon as he appeared in the living area, “Ginny!” he called again, when no one answered.  
He fought back tears as he looked wildly around the living room. He needed to talk to Ginny. Now. He was done with lying. Having Draco basically tell him that they would never be together had made more upset than he would like to admit. But as he stood in the home that no longer felt like his and yelled for his wife that he no longer wanted to call his own, he felt stupid. Stupid that he had placed his infatuation with Draco and his coming out together. He had, without meaning to, dedicated this discovery about his identity to Draco. That was wrong. Yes, Draco had made him realize he wasn’t straight. But he was a bloody fool to think that just because he liked Draco things would work out. And Harry did think that. As much as he had doubted the fact Draco would ever like him, a part of him had simultaneously imagined them ending up together. Raising their children together. Buying a house together.   
“Ginny!” Harry yelled again, trying desperately to fight off the tears that were filling his eyes.   
Despite his best efforts, the tears began to flow more; hard and fast down his face. He crumbled to the floor and pulled his face into his knees. Then he began to cry like he hadn’t allowed himself to in years. The nightmare of the day had begun to flash through his mind. Draco rejecting him after their kiss. Hermione’s piercing scream setting his world on fire. Fleeing the quidditch stadium. Working side-by-side with the man who had just rejected him to save dozens of patients while he internally panicked. Finding out about Hermione’s pregnancy. Draco telling him their kiss was just a mistake. Harry’s life hadn’t been this out of control since his time at Hogwarts. He felt like the fourteen year old who was forced to complete a maze riddled with challenges, watch a seventeen year old be killed and then fight the darkest wizard of all time all in one afternoon.   
“Harry… Harry?” A voice broke through Harry’s deafening thoughts. He looked up to see Seamus standing next to him.  
“Seamus?” Harry asked weakly, “What are you doing here? Where’s Ginny?”  
Seamus, who was bending down next to him, moved so he was sitting on the floor beside Harry, “Ginny asked me to help bring the kids home, so I did. She’s upstairs with them right now, passed out with all of them on the bed.”  
“Are they okay?” Harry asked urgently, realizing he hadn’t seen them since Hermione’s hospital room, which could have been hours ago.  
Seamus shrugged, “As good as any of us can be. Gin and I got Lily and Al to stop crying after a while. Where were you, Harry? Lily kept screaming for you.”  
Harry felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Why hadn’t he gone straight home to his kids? What was he thinking, going to Draco’s?  
“I…” he stopped talking, not wanting to tell the truth. He began to cry again.  
“Oh Harry, what is it? Is Hermione okay?” Seamus asked. He looked guilty about accusing Harry a moment ago.  
Harry shook his head. Honestly, if he told the story of Hermione’s pregnancy to Seamus, he would have to understand why Harry had taken a while to get back to his home. Harry opened his mouth to tell Seamus all of this, but something made him stop. He straightened himself and turned to face his friend.  
“Hermione had a health scare, but she is going to be fine. It’s really not my position to tell you about it,” he told a deep breath and continued, “Seamus, there’s something I need to say. I did make a stop after the hospital.”  
“Where?” Seamus asked.  
“To Draco’s apartment,” Harry finished, looking away as the words left his mouth.  
“Did something else happen with your investigation?” Seamus said concernedly, “You can tell me, Harry. Dean and I are completely trustworthy.”  
Harry shook his head, “No. I stopped there because… Draco and I kissed and then he acted like it was a mistake and I wanted to tell him I had feelings for him. And then he rejected me again and now I feel bad that I was there at all and I also feel bad that my main priority isn’t the attacks or seeing my family but I still want him, which is the worst part.”  
Harry said all of that in such a rush that he had to catch his breath after he finished. Seamus, of course, was staring at him with his mouth open.  
Then, in typical Seamus fashion, he shook himself and began to cast silence charms around them. He began to speak, much angrier than Harry had anticipated,   
“Harry James Potter!” Seamus yelled, “How dare you cheat on Ginny! I understand that dealing with your sexuality is a difficult process. Believe me, I know! You know how I spent a year dating Belinda while nursing a nasty crush on my best friend. But that’s no excuse!”  
“Seamus!” Harry responded, “It’s not like that! Ginny and I decided to get a divorce a couple weeks ago. And, not that it matters, but she cheated on me.”  
“With who?” Seamus exclaimed, “I’m really trying to be a good person to talk to here, but I feel like I’m missing a few crucial components to this story!”  
Harry nodded, “Yes, okay. I should have started with that. Ginny and I talked on Christmas Eve and decided that we both were unhappy. She also told me that she had cheated on me with Blaise.”  
“Blaise?!” Seamus’s eyes grew impossibly large, “No fucking way! My boss, Blaise fucking Zabini!? Since when?!”  
“Calm down, Seamus,” Harry looked at him in surprise, “I’m beginning to think you actually have a crush on Blaise. If you’re having an affair with him as well, now’s the time to say.”  
Blaise swatted him on the arm, “I’m not, you wanker! I’m just surprised! I’ve known Blaise for awhile now, and I had no idea he and Ginny were involved at all,” he made a face as if he were considering it, “Although, I suppose it makes sense. He did spend an awful lot of time at Cannons practice when I told him they had been monitored enough.”  
Harry looked away. He didn’t really want to consider how long his wife had liked Blaise.   
Seamus must have sensed his uneasiness, “Sorry, Harry. This is just so much to take in.”  
Harry snorted softly, “But you don’t seem at all surprised about me and Draco.”  
“I am too!” Seamus insisted.  
Harry shook his head, “Not true! After I told you about Ginny and Blaise you lost your shit. After I told you about Draco you only wanted to talk about me cheating!”  
“Only because I care about Ginny and don’t want her to get hurt!” Seamus said. He hesitated, then scrunched up his brow in thought, “But I guess you’re kinda right? You and Draco together doesn’t surprise me all that much.”  
Harry raised his eyes as if to say I told you so.  
“Actually,” Seamus continued, “I always kind thought you were a bit queer. For awhile, I thought you had the hots for Cedric.”  
Harry gasped, “You what?” he said, more shriller than he anticipated.  
“I mean, you talked about him all the time,” Seamus pointed out.  
“Because he was my competition and the whole school was pitting us against each other!” Harry reasoned.  
Seamus shrugged, “Say what you will, but you still talked about him too much, even if he was your competition. And then there was that whole thing with Cho Chang. Let’s just say, when you and Ginny started dating, I was very surprised at how functioning and normal you two seemed together.”  
Harry stared at him in awe, “You thought I was some closeted and awkward basket case for all of our childhood, didn’t you?”  
“Not all of our childhood!” Seamus joked, “Just most of it!”  
The two laughed at this. Harry put one hand on Seamus’s arm and laughed himself weak into his shoulder.   
Suddenly, as if they remembered the day that had brought them to Harry’s living room floor, the two stopped laughing abruptly.  
“Harry,” Seamus said softly, “I’m sorry about Draco. It sounds like he means a lot to you.”  
Harry looked down at the floor, “It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have focused so much on him, and what my new identity meant in light of him. This…” he gestured at himself, “Mess of a person is my own thing, not Ginny’s or Draco’s or anyone’s.”  
Seamus looked at him, clearly impressed, “That’s very wise, Mr. Potter,” he smiled softly then reached for Harry’s hand, “But in all seriousness, I don’t think you are a monster to go to Draco’s. I remember what it felt to really start to fall for someone. When I realized I liked Dean, I would have done anything if it meant a chance to just bloody kiss him. You are a great father and friend. Just look at all the things you did today! Many lives were saved because of you and Draco. You two… you seem to make a great team. And he must have changed if he was able to pull off what he did today. Harry, I support you endlessly. I hope you know that.”  
Tears welled up in Harry’s eyes as he looked back at his friend, “Thank you, Seamus. I can’t begin to tell you how much that means to me.”  
“I think I understand how you feel,” Seamus said softly , “If I remember correctly, you were there for me time and time again when I first came out and decided I wanted a relationship with Dean. You were an extraordinary friend to me then, and still are every single damn day, and the least I can do is make you feel a little better as you sit at this crossroads.”  
Harry burst into tears as he threw his arms around Seamus.   
When he collected himself enough to speak, he whispered, “Will I be able to tell my kids?”   
“Yes,” Seamus whispered back, “Because you and Ginny are the strongest people I know.”  
\----  
Tonight was the night he planned to tell Ron and Hermione the truth. A week ago, he had told his kids, which had been perhaps the worst thing he had ever had to do. James had barely talked to either Ginny or Harry all week long, while Harry had found Al crying in his room multiple times. Lily was too little to understand any of what was going on, so she was the only one in the house blissfully unaware that the situation had changed drastically. As of right now, the five of them were planning on living in the same house for awhile as to not throw too much at the kids all at once. Ginny had talked to him; she planned to move in with Blaise after this period. Harry had been shocked at this. He hadn’t realized their relationship had reached that level while Harry and Ginny were still married. He didn’t quite know how to handle his wife falling in love with another man for months while they were married, even if he had been falling for Draco. That situation was completely different, anyhow. Blaise and Ginny were mutually in love. As for Harry, he liked Draco an unhealthy amount and Draco seemed to want nothing to do with him, although his kiss had said otherwise. But that wasn’t important tonight. Harry and Ginny were going over to the Weasley- Granger household with their kids to catch up and break the news to them. He was also planning on monitoring Hermione the entire night. He had been over multiple times in the past week to make sure she was remaining stable, but she had become upset with him when he had tried to stay with her for the entire day. She kept reminding him that Draco said she would be fine (he had even given her some of his research to prove it. Harry hated how sweet that was). Regardless, Harry wanted to see for himself that Hermione seemed unaffected, and an evening at their house was a perfect way to do that. It was also going to be an evening of emotional support, as Ron and Hermione planned to tell the family about the pregnancy at Sunday brunch while Ginny and Harry were planning on talking about their divorce the same day. Yes, Ron and Hermione didn’t know yet about the divorce (well, Hermione probably did), but Harry was banking on their responses being supportive.  
Harry didn’t know how Hermione had been holding up, having been stuck at home for the past week as she recovered. She was still doing all of her work from home, insisting that she wasn’t about to sit around doing nothing while the wizarding world was in panic mode. She had even convinced her healer to allow her to go to important meetings as long as she remained seated the entire time. If Harry thought it was hard pouring over books trying to figure out all he could about Chann (Draco had imported about every Cambodian history book possible into his house, and Harry had about a good quarter of them holed up in his house), he couldn’t imagine what heading the department of international wizarding relationships would feel like. Not to mention Ron’s position. Harry was shocked he had any time to agree to a family get together, something so normal after a week that had been anything but normal. Yet both Ron and Hermione agreed that they needed to retain some normalcy if they were going to grasp onto any form of sanity.   
So Harry floo-ed into the Weasley-Granger living room, not knowing quite what to expect. Only Rose was in the room, coloring a picture on the floor.   
“Albus!” she shouted, completely disregarding the rest of the family to get up and hug him.  
“I’m your cousin too, Rose,” James pointed out, his arms crossed. He said this bitterly, which surprised Harry. He had never known James to be upset about Rose and Albus’s close relationship. James had so many cousins and friends that he never was lonely. Harry felt guilty; he knew this reaction was only due to James’s anger at the divorce.   
“Er…” Rose moved away from Albus and held out her arms to James, “You know I love you, too, James!”  
James scoffed and turned to Harry without hugging Rose, “Do we have to be here? I don’t need to hear you tell someone else about the divorce.”  
“James!” Ginny exclaimed as Rose looked at her aunt and uncle in shock, “What divorce?”  
“Yeah,” said a voice from the doorway, “What divorce?”  
Harry looked up to see Ron in the doorway. He was dressed in his Auror robes and he was holding a large stack of paperwork.  
Harry looked at Ginny frantically. This wasn’t the way he wanted to tell his best friend that he was getting a divorce from Ron’s sister.  
Ginny sighed and grabbed Harry’s arm, “Ron,” she said, “This isn’t how we wanted you to find out… but Harry and I have decided to get a divorce.”  
“What!?” Ron shouted, “How is that possible? You two have been together since you were at Hogwarts!”  
“Ron,” Harry said gently, “That’s exactly the point. We got into a relationship when we didn’t know enough about each other or ourselves. And while we will always love each other, we can’t be happy together anymore.”  
Harry knew this was the best way to describe the situation, but he could tell the room wasn’t taking to it. James was silently fuming and Rose had begun to cry, causing Albus to put an arm around her shoulder. Ron was shaking his head furiously in disbelief.   
“No, that makes no sense. You both are happy. I would have known otherwise!” Ron said indignantly.  
“That’s because that wasn’t the real reason,” James said softly.  
“What?” Ginny asked, confused, “Of course it is, sweetie. It’s not that we hate each other, it’s just that we are not right for each other. But both of us will always love you.”  
She moved to put her arm around James, but he pushed her away.  
“Don’t give me any of that “we will always love you” garbage,” James snapped.  
“Hey!” Harry scolded, “Don’t talk to your mom like that!”  
“Don’t tell me what to do, cheater!” James shouted.   
“Cheater?” Harry’s heart beat rapidly, “What are you talking about?”  
“My dad cheated on my mom!” James yelled, now addressing Ron, “With Mr. Malfoy!”  
The room broke into chaos at this statement. Rose, Al and Ron all turned to Harry in shock and rage.  
“What…” Harry sputtered.  
“You did what?” Ron seethed, stepping closer to Harry, “How could you! I knew you and Draco were too close!”  
“Ron,” Ginny said from his side, but he cut her off.  
“I knew it was a bad idea for you to befriend him! And know you are throwing away your whole family just for him!” Ron yelled. Before Harry knew what was happening, Ron shoved him. Harry landed on the floor, shocked.  
“RON!” Ginny shrieked. She yanked her brother back with the force only a quidditch coach could muster and pushed him onto the couch, “What is the matter with you? You can’t push Harry, especially not in a room in front of all of our kids.”  
Lily was now wailing. Harry watched as Albus reached out to comfort her, even though tears were in his own eyes. Harry couldn’t believe any of this was happening. How did James know anything about Draco?  
Ginny turned to Harry and yanked him off the floor. She then turned to James, “Why would you say your father cheated on me with Mr. Malfoy?”  
“Because I heard you,” James explained, his voice much quieter than before. Harry knew he hadn’t expected Ron to get physical, “When you were floo calling the other day. You were saying that Harry was in love with Mr. Malfoy.”  
Harry looked at Ginny in surprise, “Who were you talking to?”  
“I....” she paused, “I was talking to Blaise.”  
“Blaise?” Ron looked up in surprise, “Why?”  
“Yeah, Ginny,” Harry asked pointedly, “Why don’t we tell everyone why?”  
“I don’t think this is the time or place,” she hissed at Ron.   
“Wait…” James looked at his mom accusingly, “Are you cheating on dad too? Is that why you use the floo to talk all of the time now?”  
“What is going on here?” Ron demanded.  
“You have no right to know anything right now,” Ginny snapped, “Not after your little outburst. Harry and I are no longer together romantically, it is our choice as to who we begin a relationship with.”  
“So you both cheated?” Ron accused, “Great. Glad to know both of you threw a healthy marriage away for two Slytherins,” Rose began to wail at this, to which Ron looked away in shame.  
“We need to talk about this another time,” Ginny said stiffly. She reached for Albus and Lily and gestured for James to grab the floo powder, “Now’s clearly not a good time.”  
“There’s nothing more to talk about,” Ron said angrily, grabbing onto Rose’s hand, “I don’t want to talk to either of you for awhile.”  
“Fine by me!” Harry responded. He threw the floo powder down as his feet and disappeared into the flames, watching as Ron’s livid face whirled out of sight.  
\---  
“I can’t believe him!” Ginny cried later that night, “My own brother! This is our choice to make, not his. He has no right to tell us we ruined our family.”  
Although Ginny sounded angry, the telltale signs in her voice told Harry she was on the verge of tears. Though they both knew Ron was in the wrong, the things he had said stung.  
“What if we did?” Harry asked softly.  
“What?” Ginny demanded.  
“Ruined our family?” Harry whispered.  
Ginny sat down on the bed. Then, without warning, she burst into tears. When Ginny cries, like really cries, it isn’t a small scene. She wails and gasps for air as if the world is crumbling around her. Harry bent down to comfort her.  
He rubbed slow circles on her back until she had calmed down enough to take normal size breaths. Finally, when she had stopped crying enough to speak, she said,   
“Harry, I can’t stop thinking about that. I feel like… a bad person! But Blaise…” she paused awkwardly, looking away.  
“Makes you happier than you ever thought you could be?” Harry finished.  
“Yes,” she mumbled, “Damn, it’s weird confiding in you with this.”  
“Well, you may as well. There’s no one else who understands the situation quite as I do,” Harry pointed out.  
Ginny laughed shortly, “That is true. We’re going to make great ex-spouses.”  
Harry looked at her surprise, “We will, won’t we? Isn’t that the whole point? That we have always been better as friends.”  
Ginny nodded slowly, “I think so,” she shook her head, “I still get this feeling that I’m destroying our kid’s childhoods. I mean, Lily won’t even remember a time where her parents are together.”  
“But maybe that isn’t bad?” Harry said. It was strange being the comforting role in this situation, as he had been feeling the same stresses for the past couple months, “Lily will see you happy with Blaise or whomever, and me happy with…”  
“Draco?” Ginny finished, “You seemed really off after James brought up Draco. That could have just been because your own son was accusing you of cheating on your wife and because your best friend pushed you to the ground, but I got this feeling,” she turned to look directly at Harry, “Did you two start something?”  
Harry hesitated. He thought about lying and saying nothing happened, but then he felt tears begin to stream for his eyes.  
Ginny looked at him in alarm. Then, to his surprise, she threw her arms around him.  
“He doesn’t want a relationship?” she said softly into his ear.  
Harry nodded into her shoulder.  
“Well,” Ginny pulled back and looked at him, “Fuck him. Fuck Ron. Fuck anyone else who treats us like shit. We are going to figure this all out. And we will always have each other for moments like this.”  
Words couldn’t describe the surge of gratitude he felt towards Ginny at that moment. She was right; whatever happens, they would be allies in this. For the first time, he truly began to feel like he was doing the right thing.  
He moved to pull her into another hug when he heard a knock at the bedroom door. He immediately was full with worry. His kids had been sleeping for hours, so Ginny and Harry hadn’t put up any silencing charms before talking. Whatever kid had heard their conversation was bound to be even more upset than before.  
Ginny must have been thinking the same thing, because she looked as worried as Harry felt, “Come in!” she called.  
To Harry’s surprise and relief, the door swung open to reveal Hermione.  
She took one look at Ginny and Harry’s expressions before she ran over to the bed and wrapped them in a hug.   
“Oh, Harry! Ginny!” she exclaimed through tears, “I am so, so sorry! Ron’s so confused right now, he doesn’t mean all the things he said!”  
“Crazy how we’d like to hear that from him,” Ginny snapped.  
Hermione nodded, “I know. It means nothing from me. But we both have been having hellish weeks. That’s actually why I wasn’t there tonight; I had a meeting I couldn’t miss and I had planned to come over afterwards but I was caught up for hours. I came over as soon as Ron told me the story.”  
“We don’t need you to make excuses for Ron,” Ginny said tensely, “He’s my brother and Harry’s best friend. He should support us, not tell us we are ruining out family directly in front of our kids.”  
“He did that?” Hermione whispered sadly, “I can’t believe him. You are right, Ginny. You two have the right to make the decision that works best for your family. Families come in so many different forms. Not staying together when you are both unhappy is the happiest decision you could make.”  
“Thank you, Hermione,” Harry gripped her arm to show his gratitude.  
“Yeah,” Ginny said, easing up a bit on the intensity in her voice, “Although, I have to say, you don’t seem all that surprised. Especially if you just found out,” she looked at Harry, “Is there any reason for that?”  
Harry looked back in alarm. How could she possibly know he had talked to Hermione?  
Ginny sighed, “I know you, Harry. I know that if you are dealing with something difficult and confusing, you go straight to Hermione. Never me. I should have taken that as a sign ages ago.”  
Harry shifted uncomfortably at this. Ginny was right; he had always gone to Hermione first for years.   
“Okay, yes,” Harry admitted, “I told Hermione.”  
“Knew it,” Ginny said smugly.   
“Honestly,” Hermione spoke, “I was a bit upset you didn’t say anything to me, Gin. We are close enough that you can trust me with stuff like this. You know that, don’t you?”  
“Of course I do, Hermione!” Ginny insisted, “I just… I felt like I owed it to Harry to tell him first, you know?”  
Hermione nodded, “I do. For what it’s worth, I think Blaise is pretty great. I mean, anyone who makes it their mission to personally scout out new security forces is good in my book.”  
“He is doing what?” Harry asked.  
“Well, the Ministry is, of course, trying to find the best possible security against more attacks. After the hospital attack and the quidditch attack, the Department of Security has received a lot of backlash. Apparently, they ignored many of Blaise’s suggestions that could have helped prevent the attack, leading many to think the Department of Security is lacking strong leadership. They have promoted Blaise to head of the department temporarily while Seamus runs the Department of Games and Sports. So far, it seems Blaise is doing a great job. And he volunteered for it and everything! The courage is admirable, I have to say.”  
Ginny nodded in agreement. While Harry couldn’t deny taking on this job was a brave risk for anyone, something about the situation felt off. Blaise had been in Games and Sports the entire time he was at the ministry. Why would he suddenly want a position so vastly different from the job he loved? As Ginny and Hermione continued to talk, their voices faded around him as he continued to think about Blaise Zabini.   
\---  
Harry was lying in bed. Hermione had left what must have been hours ago, and yet he was still lying here, no closer to sleep then he was then. Ginny had passed out as soon as Hermione had left. Harry had moved downstairs to the couch and had been attempting to sleep ever since, but his brain was moving too fast. He couldn’t stop thinking about Blaise and why he had taken the job at the ministry. The truth was, he was pretty sure he liked Blaise. In spite of the fact the last time he had spoken to him he had been upset because he thought Blaise and Draco were a couple, he had still taken to Blaise’s large and vibrant personality besides himself. But wouldn’t that be the perfect distraction? A large personality? The head of Games and Sports? No one would expect that person to be part of a secret society dead set on destroying muggleborns.  
Harry sat up quickly, his heart racing. He couldn’t believe he was having these thoughts. Draco trusted Blaise. Ginny trusted Blaise. There was no reason he shouldn’t.  
But something was nagging him. The fact that being Draco’s friend and Ginny’s… whatever was the perfect cover-up. That solved any suspicion with the Aurors and the reporters. The more Harry thought about it, the more it made sense despite his desperate longing for it not to be true. Ginny and Draco would never forgive him, and although he and Draco were not on good terms, he couldn’t stand never having Draco’s trust again. Yet Blaise was at the hospital the day of the attack when Harry had never seen him there before. Was it a coincidence that the only time the Department of Games and Sports and the quidditch teams held a match was the day of a deadly attack on the hospital? And he was in charge of the quidditch tournament! It was all too obvious to dispute. Harry got up and began pacing. Blaise was in charge of everything at the quidditch match, from seating to preparation to food. While he knew that Blaise may not have been able to prevent his vendors from being Imperius-ed, it would have made it much easier for Kareach to control the vendors, or even be the vendors, if Blaise was involved. Harry felt sick to his stomach. He needed to talk to the Aurors. Fast. If Blaise was the real deal, he needed to be investigated as soon as possible. His new temporary job as head of security could be disastrous for the entire wizarding population of England.  
Harry rushed over to the fireplace. Before making a call, he cast silencing charms around the room. The last thing he needed was Ginny or any of his kids overhearing his suspicions.   
Taking a fistful of floo powder, he threw it into the flames and shouted, “Ida’s apartment!”  
He stuck his face in and was surprised to see the lights were still on. He looked around and spotted Ida sitting on the floor, papers stretched out around her. She was casting charms that created streaks of light across the papers.  
“Ida!” Harry said, but it was pointless. She had already looked up.  
“How on earth did you hear me?” Harry asked, “Never mind. Can I come through? It’s urgent.”  
“First of all, my Auror reflexes extend to my superhuman hearing,” she waved a wand over her papers to move them out of the path of the fireplace, “Second of all, yes you may come through.”  
Harry stepped into the fireplace and appeared fully in Ida’s living room. He glanced down at the papers she had been working on and noticed long lists similar to the ones has Draco made. One page had a large sketch of the quidditch pitch, labeled with places where the vendors were located and where most of the attacks happened.   
“Yes, Harry, I’ve been working day and night to solve these attacks. I’m an Auror. It’s what we are all doing. Don’t look so surprised. Now,” she continued, reaching down to reorganize her papers, “Why are you here?”  
But Harry was still looking at the picture of the quidditch pitch. As Ida reached for it, Harry bent down and grabbed it.  
“What?” she asked.  
Harry pointed a shaking finger at the drawing, “The most attacks. They happened a few rows ahead of me.”  
“So?” she asked, peering curiously at him, “Harry, what’s going on? What do you know?”  
Harry turned to her, his blood now coursing through his body at an unprecedented pace, “That’s where Blaise was sitting! Of course!”  
“Wait…” she grabbed the paper from Harry, “Where was he sitting?”  
“Right there!” he pointed, “Four attacks are practically forming a circle around him! Ida,” his continued, his voice urgent, “Did you see Blaise during the attacks? Did anyone? Was he helping, or seen fleeing?”  
“Do you… do you think it’s him?” Ida questioned. She turned to him and grabbed his arm, “Harry, tell me all you know. You know something. We need any information.”  
“Blaise was at the hospital the day of the Imperius attacks, because of a quidditch accident,” Harry said in a rush, “And he was in charge of the quidditch match! Now he’s taking charge of security, when he has been in Games and Sports his entire careers. None of it adds up, unless he’s involved in Kareach!”  
“Kareach? Harry, we talked about this. The Aurors all agree the attacks have nothing to do with Kareach,” Ida reminded him firmly.  
Harry couldn’t fight her on this; he had almost forgotten she didn’t know anything about Chann or Draco’s research.  
“Regardless, there’s a good chance he’s involved!” Harry exclaimed, “It all adds up!”  
Ida didn’t answer. She began grabbing papers and shuffling through until she found one with an official looking one with the Ministry logo on it.  
“Zabini wasn’t going to get the Head of Security job,” she showed Harry the paper. At the top, the name ‘Hugo Ranz’ was listed as the new head of security, “Ranz was. Then the next day, Ranz disappeared and Zabini was declared as Kingsley’s new choice. The Aurors focused on Ranz’s disappearance only. He was already working in Security and was a promising candidate, so we thought he was taken out by the Imperius Attacker. But, Harry,” she turned to him in excitement, “What if that’s not the takeaway? What if Ranz disappeared solely for Zabini to take his position? What if Zabini himself caused the disappearance? It would explain how Zabini was chosen out of everyone to head the department!”  
“It would!” Harry jumped back as if the paper was on fire, “I can’t believe this! What if it is him? He’s been messing with my wife and my… Draco,” he finished lamely.  
“If this is true, then we have you to thank for finding out before it’s too late,” she began collecting papers, “I need to talk to Aviary and Savant straight away! And if my guess is correct, they are both still at the office.”  
Harry checked the large clock on Ida’s wall, “They are? It’s 3:11 in the morning!”  
“Savant was hard at work when I left at midnight. There’s no way he’s left yet. Unless of course he’s fallen asleep. And Aviary hasn’t left the office in the past week,” Ida told him.  
“Why?” Harry asked, shocked.  
“Because she’s terrified, and I can’t blame her,” Ida stated, “She is a muggleborn. Her and Remmins are some of the only muggleborn Aurors who haven’t been poisoned yet.”  
“That’s terrible!” Harry exclaimed.  
“Yes,” Ida agreed, “But not our priority at the moment. We could be closer to finding a solution to stopping all of this.”  
Harry nodded, “You’re right. Let’s go to the Ministry.”  
\---  
Minutes later, the two stood outside of Savant’s office. It was in harsh contrast to the last time they had stood here together. Then, they had both been clean and wearing robes. Harry became aware that he hadn’t showered in a day or two and that his hair was highly tousled from trying desperately to sleep for hours at no avail. Ida’s hair in the light of the hallway looked like she hadn’t changed the braids looped into buns for days. They hung limply at the sides of her head while strands of her dark hair stuck out every which way.   
Harry watched as Ida tapped on the door firmly. Moments later, an exhausted looking Savant opened the door.  
“Dover, I promise you’ll be safe if you get some sleep…” he trailed off when he noticed Harry and Ida standing there.  
“Potter? Reyes?” he perplexed, “What’s going on? I haven’t seen you two together in months.”  
Harry felt a little off put by the lack of expression in Savant’s voice. He was used to the loud, booming abrasiveness of the man in front of him. This new Savant had seen and done things that had left him this new man, tired and broken down while still working at the dregs of night.  
“Sir, Harry and I have crucial news to the Imperius case,” without asking, she stepped past Savant and into the room so she could set down all of her papers on his desk after clearing off his own things with her wand.  
“Hey!” he protested as a jar of ink hit the floor and shattered, spilling ink across the carpeting, “I just got new carpet put in!”  
“With all due respect, sir,” Harry said, walking in to stand besides Ida, “This is much more important than your carpet.”  
“Oi, yes, of course,” Savant stammered, hurrying over to the table. After rubbing his eyes, he looked down at the papers Ida had spread across the table.  
“Where’s Aviary?” Ida asked, “I’m not talking without her. She’s my partner.”  
“Oh, okay,” Savant looked away from the notes and yelled in the booming voice Harry had been expecting, “Dover! I know you aren’t asleep! Come to my office!”  
Sure enough, moments later Aviary walked through. She looked someone even more exhausted than her boss, exhibited by her tangled blonde hair falling out of a messy ponytail and the large bags under her eyes.  
“Harry! Ida!” she burst when she noticed them, “What are you two doing here?”  
She rushed over to her partner's side and looked down at her notes. After a once over, she looked at Ida, “These are the same notes I have. Did you figure out something new?”  
“Actually,” Ida gestured towards Harry, “Harry did. And I think he could be on to something.”  
Aviary and Savant looked expectantly at Harry.  
“We think Blaise Zabini is involved with the attacks,” he said boldly, knowing the only way to say it was quickly and firmly.  
Both Aviary and Savant looked shocked, “That can’t be true!” Savant insisted.  
“He’s a great bloke!” Aviary added.   
Ida and Harry exchanged a look and began to explain everything they knew about Blaise and how he could be involved with the attacks. When they finished sharing their theory about why Blaise was now head of security, the room felt eerily quiet. Then Aviary spoke, softly:  
“That… actually makes a lot of sense,” they all glanced over at Savant to see if he agreed.  
He pursed his lips, “I don’t know. Zabini has been a trusted part of this staff for a long time. I have never suspected any wrongdoing of any sort.”  
“We do have to remember he wasn’t always this deceptively good,” Harry added, “At Hogwarts, he was bigoted and pretentious.”  
A pang in his stomach reminded him that Draco was the same way. But just because Draco’s changed doesn’t mean his friend truly has.  
“Sure, but there are many ex-Slytherins working at the Ministry who I trust wholeheartedly!” Savant countered.  
“There’s a difference between ex-Slytherins and ex-bigots,” Aviary said fiercely. Harry looked at her, surprised. This was the harshest he had ever heard her talk to anyone.  
“Of course, of course!” Savant covered, “I don’t believe that! I’m just saying that many people who work in the Ministry once held terrible views and now they don’t.”  
“None of this matters,” Ida put in, “We have solid reasons to believe that Blaise could be responsible for these attacks. He’s a pureblood, raised in a household that took blood purity extremely seriously. Trust me, as a pureblood from one of the oldest wizarding families, I know which families to watch out for. Aside from the Blacks and the Malfoys, the Zabinis have historically been the most influential wizarding family. Blaise has been raised with bigoted ideals, and while that doesn’t prove he committed anything, these pieces of evidence do. We need to bring him in.”  
Aviary nodded, “First thing in the morning. We can’t have him heading Security if he’s the attacker.”  
Savant looked hesitant, but he nodded in agreement, “What you are both saying has merit. We will bring Zabini in tomorrow.”  
“Okay,” Ida said, moving back towards her papers, “Until then, we find more evidence that points towards Zabini. Even if we use vetrusiam, we need as much proof as we can get to justify our suspicions.”   
“Let’s do it,” Savant agreed. He turned to look at Harry, “Glad to have you back, Potter.”  
Savant treating him like he was rejoining the Auror team made Harry realize something. He wasn’t doing this because he wanted to be an Auror. He was doing this because of Draco. Because Draco asked and he couldn’t resist any chance to make a difference, to help using his own insight at the hospital. But here he was, acting as if he was Ida’s partner again, when his own partner was home asleep, none the wiser to the plans they were making behind his back.  
“I...I can’t stay,” Harry stammered, pulling away from the table, “I’m not an Auror. I’m…” he stopped talking as he looked at their alarmed faces, “I need to go!”  
With that, he apparated into the living room of Draco Malfoy’s apartment.


	11. Chapter 11

“Harry?” Draco asked from his spot in his favorite armchair, “What are you doing here?”  
Sure enough, just like Ida, Savant and Aviary, Draco was still awake in the dead of night (or the dead of morning, as it was almost four thirty).  
“Why does no one sleep anymore?” Harry wondered under his breath.  
“What?” for someone who had recently rejected Harry and called their kiss a mistake, he didn’t seem upset. He was concerned, which Harry could not deal with right now. Not with the news he was about to give.  
“Harry?” Draco asked again, softer now. He was terrified to look into Draco’s eyes, afraid that he would see concern there, which is the last thing he needed.  
Taking a deep breath, he braced himself as he looked up at Draco, the words of Blaise’s interrogation on his lips, when Draco moved forward.  
Harry recognized what Draco was doing this time. It took all his remaining strength, but he grabbed Draco’s arm firmly and held him at arms length to prevent them from kissing.  
His breath caught in his throat as he tried to speak. Draco pulled out of Harry’s grasp forcefully and turned to walk towards the hallway. Harry let him, his mind moving faster than he could handle. Last week, Draco had told him kissing was a mistake. Now, Harry shows up in the middle of night and Draco tries to kiss him without needing an explanation? None of it made any sense. What hurt the most was the fact he wanted Draco to kiss him, but that was possibly the worst thing he could do with someone before telling them they accused their best friend of the crime of the decade.   
When Harry came out of his thought spiral, he realized he was still in Draco’s living room. He needed to talk to him; he couldn’t run away again, not now. Harry began to walk towards the hallway.  
“Draco!” he called into the dark halls, “We need to talk! Please!”  
No answer. Harry pulled out his wand and muttered “lumos” to get his bearings. There were four different doors at the end of the hallway. He made his way towards the first one. He tapped loudly. When there was no answer, he opened the door to reveal a bathroom. He continued to the next room, did the same thing, and discovered a spare bedroom. He made his way to the third door and opened it without knocking. He gasped when the light of his wand reflected off of something shiny. He found the light switch on the wall beside him and flipped it, illuminating the entire room. He was immediately bombarded with dozens and dozens of reflecting objects. Harry moved closer to inspect the mysterious objects, and found he was looking at rows and rows of vases, plates, cups, bowls and more. He forgot about all he had come here for, he forgot about his search for Draco. The pottery was beautiful, intricate, breathtaking. He moved down the first row, realizing that each piece had its own design, painted on with painstaking detail. Harry’s breath caught when he spotted one that looked all too familiar. It was him. On a plate. Sitting at Smith and Walton’s, a large black mug of tea in front of him. He was in mid-laugh, clearly enjoying something Draco had said. Harry marveled at how Draco had viewed these meetings at Smith and Walton’s. Or in the park, Harry thought as he noticed a bowl with him, Draco and Murr painted in the center. Draco has painted them both smiling down at Murr, who was jumping up onto Harry. Draco had seen their interactions as Harry had; as so much more than a partnership, but a friendship. Two people finding they had much more in common then they could have ever anticipated. Draco felt something for him. And Harry knew that by the two attempted kisses Harry had gotten from him, they were certainly feelings of more than just friendship.  
“Put that down,” a voice said roughly from the door.  
Harry turned around to see Draco walking quickly towards him, any concern gone from his face as he reached to grab the mug from his hands.  
“Draco,” Harry breathed, choosing to ignore Draco’s anger, “These are all incredible. You are truly talented!”  
“It’s just a hobby,” Draco snapped, but Harry could tell it meant more to him than he was letting on, “And it’s not a hobby I do not plan to share with anyone, especially you!”  
Harry huffed, “Well, just so you know, I think you should show people! Or even sell them! You could do something where you don’t have to keep the profit and you could give it to a charity or something.”  
Harry stopped rambling as Draco shot him a glare.  
“Clearly you’re not here to tell me how good my pottery is,” Draco stated, “So just get out with it.”  
Harry hesitated, then continued, “I don’t think we should breeze past this,” he rambled, “We should at least talk about this plate!” he grabbed the plate with him on it, “And the mug!” he pointed at Draco’s hand that still held the mug with the park scene.  
“What’s there to talk about?” Draco said, “I paint things in my life. It has nothing to do with you or your fucking ego.”  
“I think you like me,” Harry blurted. He didn’t know why he was making matters worse, but he really could not control himself.  
“Clearly!” Draco shouted angrily. The word rang out around the room.   
Harry stared at him, “Then why say all those nasty things to me last week?”  
“Because I can’t trust you!” Draco exclaimed, “Minutes ago, I tried to kiss you and you pushed me away! You’ve already gotten bored of me. I’m just going to be another one of your projects to keep you entertained while you work through this little mid-life crisis of yours!”  
Harry shook his head, hurt, “How can you say that? It was never like that!”  
“Like I said before, I’m not some gay rebound,” Draco spat.  
“I know that’s not the real reason! You know that’s not who I am,” Harry insisted.  
“Do I? Anytime things get hard you ignore me for a week! I like you too much to have my heart broken!” Draco’s eyes grew wide.  
“Draco!” Harry reached for his arm, “I wouldn’t break your heart! I feel the same way you do. I want this to work out, so much it hurts. Don’t you understand that?”  
Draco pursed his lips together, “Okay, then. Tell me why you are here tonight. Tell me why you are so hesitant to say something that’s clearly important, as you showed up at my house at four in the morning.”  
Shit. Harry had forgotten about that part.  
“Draco… it wasn’t personal,” Harry began, “You have to believe me! It has nothing to do with spite or anger at you! I did it for the investigation, that’s all.”  
Draco looked at him, “What the fuck did you do, Potter?” His voice was low, dark.  
Harry began to cry without meaning to, tears pouring down his face as he turned away from Draco’s intense stare. He couldn’t tell him what he had done, he just couldn’t.  
“Harry!” Draco yelled, grabbing his arm and yanking Harry around to face him again, “You need to tell me!”  
“I accused Blaise of being in Kareach!” he shouted, his whole body searing with the pain of the truth.  
“You.. what?” Draco’s voice was dangerously low.  
“I had to!” Harry explained, feeling worse and worse the more he spoke, “There were too many reasons to think he was involved! I can explain everything. I did this all for the investigation, not for me.”  
“It. Was. Not. Blaise.” Draco gritted out, his voice sharp, “I’ve known him my whole life! He wouldn’t have even done something like this back at Hogwarts! He’s a good person, one who cares so much about his job and friends. There is no fucking way it was him!”  
“Draco,” Harry began again, softly but as firmly as he could manage, “I know it seems absurd. I swear to you I didn’t want to…”  
“Oh, fucking save it, Potter,” Draco interrupted, “You blew any coincidences with this case and Blaise out of proportion because you wanted to spite me! I blew you off and you couldn’t stand that, so you took it out on my best friend.”  
“How could you possibly accuse me of that?” Harry raged, “I would never put someone I think to be innocent in this position! Especially at your expense, Draco. I’m in love with you, don’t you know that by now?”  
Draco stood frozen, his eyes wide. As Harry realized what he had said, a large blush began to spread across his face. He turned away and began to move toward the door.  
To his surprise, Draco didn’t say anything else. As Harry pulled out his wand and prepared to leave, new tears building in his eyes, he whispered,   
“Draco, I am so, so, sorry.”  
“Get. The fuck. Out,” Draco’s voice rang out through the room, sending chills down Harry’s spine as he apparated to his home.  
\---  
I told him I love him. What was wrong with Harry? He tells a man he accused his best friend of a heinous crime, and then he tells him he loves him the next minute? After going home last night, he had paced around the living room. When he came to the realization that he was never going to fall asleep, he left a note for Ginny and apparated to St. Mungo’s at 5:30 in the morning. His training didn’t start until eight, but the last thing he wanted to do was walk anxiously throughout his house and wait for Ginny to work up. He knew it was selfish, but he didn’t want to explain to another person what he had done last night.  
Thankfully, Healer Patrick had spotted him in the canteen a mere ten minutes after he arrived and found plenty of jobs for him to do for the day. She told him she would tell Healer Brayan that Harry would work under her for the day. This is how Harry ended up in the hospital room of Daisy Hanger, who, like Seb all those weeks ago, had a nasty case of Dragon Pox.   
As he checked in on Daisy and made small talk with her, he couldn’t help but remember how easy it was to talk to Seb. Easier than anyone he had talked to in a long time. His friends and family seemed to make everything more complicated for him, while Seb just listened and supported him kindly. Draco would never do that.  
Harry began to feel angry as he left Daisy’s room. Yes, Draco had a right to be mad that Harry had gone behind his back to the Aurors and accused Blaise. But didn’t Harry have a right to be angry with Draco for being emotionally distant? For being the one who kissed him and then acting as if it was Harry’s fault he felt anything in the first place? For saying he couldn’t trust Harry to be in a relationship, or that Harry’s coming out was nothing but a phase attributed to a mid-life crisis? That was all cruel and misguided, while Harry had simply been doing what Draco had wanted in the first place. Trying to solve the mystery. Although he didn’t want to believe, he did think Blaise was the one to blame. And when that was revealed today, Draco would be needing to apologize to him.  
Harry made his way towards his next patient, checking the large stack of files Patrick had given him to see what illness this patient was afflicted with. His head bent over the file, he didn't see the person running towards him.  
“Harry!”  
He looked up to see Aviary standing directly in front of him. She looked the same as she did last night; tired and worn down.   
“Aviary?” he asked, suddenly highly alert. He tried to read her expression to see what news she had for him, “What is it? Did you investigate Blaise?”  
She nodded, “Harry, he’s innocent. He volunteered to take truth serum and everything. Blaise wasn’t involved with any of the attacks and he worked diligently to try to prevent the one at the quidditch match.”  
Harry collapsed against the wall, regret flooding him. He had sent an innocent and kind man to the Ministry for an interrogation?  
Aviary moved to steady him, “It’s a good thing, right?”  
“Of course! I didn’t want him to be guilty,” Harry insisted, “I just feel terrible, Aviary. I shouldn’t have said anything.”  
“Yes, you should have,” Aviary said firmly, “All the Aurors agree that you had significant reasons to believe Blaise was guilty. You also gave us reason to believe that the actual culprit is most likely a Ministry or hospital employee, in order to have the level of access they did. We are beginning to focus on the scope of the case, and that’s because of you. You must have been a damn good Auror.”  
“No,” Harry countered, “No, a good Auror doesn’t accuse an innocent person who also happens to be the best friend of my…”   
“Draco?” Aviary finished, “He will forgive you. Ida told me how close you two have become over the past couple months. It must have been hard to do this. I think it was really brave. You fought for what you believed was the truth, even if it didn’t turn out the way you expected.”  
“You are right, Aviary…” he began to say, but he stopped abruptly when he heard a voice from the end of the hallway.  
“Harry!” shrieked Ginny, running the length of the hallway towards him, “What in the actual fuck did you do?”  
“Ginny,” he held his ground and spoke softly, “I’m so sorry…”  
“Save it! How could you accuse Blaise! Haven’t you met the man? He is the least likely person to do something like this! What was this, a way to get back at me and Draco in one foul swoop?” Ginny screamed.  
“Gin, quiet do…” he started, as there were patients and healers wandering out of rooms.  
“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!” she yelled, “I can’t believe you! If you were upset with me, or with Draco, you can’t take that out on an innocent person!”  
“Ginny,” Harry tried again, “The Aurors and I had plenty of reasons to think he was guilty! It was not spiteful. You know I’m not upset with you about Blaise.”  
“I thought I did,” Ginny spat, “But for you to accuse Blaise without telling me? For you to send him to the Aurors with only circumstantial evidence?”  
“Ginny, he had solid…” Aviary tried to put in.  
“Don’t start with me!” Ginny snapped, “I’m just as mad at you as I am Harry! And Ida! And my own fucking brother, who did the interrogation along with Padma and Ida! I can’t believe two of the people I count on most in the world would go behind my back and put my boyfriend on trial for something he would never do!”  
“Ginny…” Harry was desperate now. He was barely aware of the crowd that had gathered around the three of them. He needed Ginny to understand that none of this was personal.   
“No,” she seethed, “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say right now.”  
But Harry cut in anyway, “Ginny, he’s proven innocent! Anything I said about him doesn’t matter now. I’ll apologize to him myself, I’ll make things alright.”  
“How fucking naive are you?” Ginny denounced, glaring straight into his eyes, “Blaise is an ex-Slytherin who was known for being associated with Death Eaters. And before you tell that’s even more proof he was guilty, we both know it’s not! Unless, of course, you think your little gay crush did this too! No, you only think it’s Blaise. Because he had a human moment and slept with me. Because he’s Draco’s best friend and Draco would rather spend time with him than you!”  
“You know I’m not upset you slept with him!” Harry shouted.  
“Then why do this? Now his job is at risk! The job he loves and is exceptionally good at. And he surely won’t make Head of Security, and Merlin knows he could have made a real difference there! He is smart and knows more than any of those wankers in the Security department, but now he’s seen as a huge risk! It doesn’t matter that he proved innocent, his past and the accusation of the entire Auror department will cast a shadow of doubt he may never recover from!” Ginny finished with her face bright red and her breathing hard.  
“I didn’t mean for any of that,” Harry whispered.  
“Well, it’s too fucking late for that!” Ginny snapped.  
“Excuse me?” Healer Patrick had appeared in the hallway, “We can not have this type of scene in a hospital! I’m going to have you leave, Mrs. Potter- Weasley.”  
“It’s Ms. Weasley,” Ginny shot, “And I will gladly leave. Just one last thing,” she stared at Harry with venom in her eyes, “You are not welcome in my home! Do you hear me? It’s time to do what you should have done years ago and get your own apartment!”  
With that, she turned on her foot and walked back towards the lift, red hair sailing behind her like a flag.  
\----  
“Are you sure you are alright with me staying here?” Harry asked.  
“Of course,” Seb answered, “Anything for a friend.”  
The inside of Seb’s apartment was, well, exactly how one would picture it to be. The colors were bright and brought a cheerfulness that Harry needed. It was almost able to distract Harry from the gnawing anger and sadness inside him. He felt terrible about Blaise, and how upset it had made Ginny, but he also felt angry at her for kicking him out and taking him away from his kids. Harry knew she wouldn’t keep him away from them for long, and he knew it was much too soon to demand to see them, but he felt terrible thinking about what they must be thinking. They were already so upset about the divorce; how would they react when their dad didn’t come home tonight? Ginny had also left him with little options, as now his whole family and friends had heard about the fight he and Ginny had held in front of many witnesses at the hospital. The Prophet had covered it mere hours later. Even though it wouldn’t be out until tomorrow’s issue, everyone already knew that Harry and Ginny Potter- Weasley were getting a divorce. And that Harry was potentially gay. And that he was friends with Draco Malfoy.   
So, he had ended up at a place he knew he’d feel safe: Seb’s apartment. The two hadn’t seen much of each other lately, what with two attacks and Christmas, but Seb took him in with open arms when Harry sent an owl.   
“I feel like I’m imposing,” Harry admitted, “I mean, I haven’t spoken to you in well over a month and then I show up on your doorstep.”  
Seb shook his head, “No, you’re not imposing. And don’t worry about not contacting me lately. I can’t imagine what it’s been like, working at Mungos during these times! I completely understand not having time for a new friend.”  
Harry felt a little guilty at these words; although the attacks were still at the forefront of his mind, his main reason for avoiding Seb had to do with the fact he was like a bright and over smiley version of Draco, and Harry hadn’t wanted the constant reminder of his seemingly one-sided love. Now, it stung even more to see Seb, but it hurt less than facing his friends and family at a time like this. They would all want to discuss the divorce and Harry’s sexuality and the hell that had become Harry’s life in the past few days, and that’s the last thing he needed right now. He was hoping Seb would just be a positive spin on his sadness and a good distraction from everything that was happening in his life.  
Or so he thought.  
“So, I don’t know if I’m supposed to ask,” Seb asked cautiously, “But I heard from my friend, who’s a healer at Mungos, that you and Ginny…”  
“Listen, Seb,” Harry cut in patiently, “I really can’t talk about this right now. I potentially wrecked my relationships with multiple people today. What I need right now is just to forget about all of that.”  
Seb nodded, “I understand. Of course I understand. I just..”  
“Seb…” Harry warned softly.  
“I’m not going to talk about it! I just wanted to say, I heard a rumor that you were gay, and if that’s true, I want you to know I’m here to talk. I understand what it’s like to come to terms with who you are, and if you ever need someone to hear you out, I’m here. It doesn’t have to be now, or soon, or ever, but it could be whenever you need it,” Seb finished hurriedly, looking nervously to the side.  
Harry smiled and laughed softly, “Seb, you are an amazing friend. Thank you for saying that, truly. I’ll take you up on the offer. Just not today.”  
“So it’s true?” Seb blurted. He then covered his mouth with his hand.  
Harry rolled his eyes, “No, I was planning on talking to you about how hard it was to realize I was straight.”  
Seb shrugged, “I mean, I would still listen. I wouldn’t know, but I heard the lives of straight people are pretty tragic.”  
Harry snorted, “I have someone you could talk to if you want to hear about the tragedy of a straight life. My friend Ron has been complaining steadily for thirty straight years.”  
Saying Ron’s name made him feel a jolt of sadness. Harry was so accustomed to bringing up Ron in conversation that he didn’t even register the fact that, as of right now, he and Ron weren’t on speaking terms, much less friends.   
Seb laughed at his joke. The soft and airy quality of it was soothing and almost made Harry feel better, “I like what you did there,” Seb commented, “I always appreciate a good pun. I used to give Healer Patrick a new pun every time she came into my room. She then began coming into my room every five minutes one day until I admitted I couldn’t think up puns that quickly.”  
“She did that?” Harry asked, laughing, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Patrick doing anything at Mungos that wasn’t directly related to her job.”  
“Well, I think she believes part of her job is to keep the patient happy,” Seb said thoughtfully, “So while she moves at the speed of light to finish all of her rounds, she still makes time to adhere to all her patients needs, which includes cheering them up.”  
“Seb, I don’t think anyone has ever needed cheering up less than you,” Harry joked.  
“You’d be surprised,” Seb said, “And I could have said the same about you, Harry. At least when I first met you. But the more I’ve spent time with you, the more I’ve realized that you are one of the people who needs cheering up the most because you’ve spent your whole life cheering up everyone else around you.”  
Harry stared at Seb. Was he right? Was the reason Harry had gone through so much in the past couple months because he was finally trying to cheer himself up, and that proved to be messy and confusing and just plain chaotic? Had he spent so much of his life doing what others wanted or expected that he had forgotten he had his own feelings and aspirations as well? Was Seb the only one who truly understood that?  
Seb reached over and patted Harry on the back, “Listen, I know the perfect cure for a long day. Go put your stuff in the guest room and then we’ll hit the Leaky.”  
“Your solution to my personal crisis is the bar? Real original,” Harry joked.  
“Hey, don’t doubt the power of a good drink at the Leaky Cauldron,” Seb said.  
“I would never,” Harry grinned at Seb and then grabbed his bag. He walked to the first door in the hallway, the one Seb had told him was the guest room. He couldn’t help it; he gasped when he walked in. The entire room was painted yellow, with a light pink carpet to accent.  
“Sorry!” Seb called, “I forgot to tell you my guest room was designed by a person with either no taste or no eyes!”  
Harry laughed and tossed his stuff onto the bed. He was about to wander back out into the living room when he remembered he was still in his scrubs. As that was not proper pub attire, Harry reached for his favorite pair of jeans that were so worn even Ginny didn’t like him to wear them (and she wore her pajamas to a quidditch match once just to spite some wanker of a reporter who criticized her clothing choice at a Ministry function). He pulled off his top and reached for another one of his favorite pieces of clothing (an extremely soft blue t-shirt) when his phone rang. Harry groaned internally and considered not even checking who was calling. There weren’t many people he felt like talking to at the moment. Then it occurred to him that, in a time where two of his closest friends had almost died from attacks, he couldn’t ignore his phone.   
He rummaged around in his bag until he felt the hard metal of his phone in the palm of his hand. Harry reluctantly turned it around and nearly tossed it back onto the bed when he saw ‘Draco’ was flashing across the screen. Every fiber in his body was telling him that answering the phone for Draco would be a bad thing for his mental health, but the unhelpful and disloyal logical part of his brain reminded him that Draco would only be calling if it were crucial.   
Harry clicked on the answer button and placed the phone to his ear, “Hello?”  
“We need to talk,” Draco declared.   
“About?” Harry asked stiffly.   
“Listen,” Draco said rather fiercely, “I work better with you than I do Patil and Granger- Weasley. Let’s be professional and meet at Smith and Walton’s tonight. Say eight o’clock?”  
“Are you fucking kidding me, Draco?” Harry whispered so Seb wouldn’t hear him, “That’s not how this works. You said some really hurtful things to me, after you came onto me. We can’t just keep breezing past the hard things and pretending nothing is wrong.”  
“Nothing is wrong,” Draco said evenly, “Not if I forget the fact you accused my best friend of a heinous crime.”  
“Draco, I said I was sorry. I was trying my hardest to find a solution to this. You have to understand it was never personal.”  
“It’s always personal with you,” Draco retorted, “Everything has to be about star Potter. So when you didn’t get the attention you needed from me, you used my friend as a scapegoat.”  
“Fuck you, Malfoy,” Harry hung up the phone and threw it at the wall. He watched as the phone collided with the bright yellow walls and exploded, the pieces scattering across the floor.  
“Harry?” Seb appeared in the doorway, his brow furrowed in concern. His eyes momentarily expanded as he caught sight of Harry. He probably was a sight to see; shirtless, seething with rage and standing over a pile of phone shards.   
“Looks like you need that drink more than I thought,” Seb commented softly.  
Harry grabbed a shirt and walked towards Seb, “Let’s get the fuck to the pub.”  
\---  
“This whisky is terrible,” Harry slurred as he took another long sip and gagged.  
“Then stop drinking it, you prick,” Seb yanked the bottle across the bar and towards himself, “I knew you wouldn’t like it. You’re picky.”  
“What? I am not!” Harry protested.  
“Yes, you are, actually,” Seb grinned as Harry attempted to protest, “Don’t even try. I’ve gone out to get tea with you only a few times. Not only do you only drink one type, you also need the precise amount of sugar or you won’t drink it.”  
“So what? Everyone has the ideal cup of tea,” Harry argued.  
“Oh, there’s more. You also wouldn’t eat anything on the menu at any place we went besides blueberry scones. Not to mention the hour I spent listening to you rant about the lack of food you like in the canteen. It sounds as though you’ll eat about two meals out of the approximately forty they serve and you’ll only eat the blueberry crumble for dessert. That’s picky, my dear friend.”  
Harry pulled a face, “Well, at least my favorite whiskey isn’t literal liquid garbage.”  
“Wow, good one. That’s going to hurt for awhile,” Seb said sarcastically.  
Harry laughed and reached for the whiskey again, “It should have. I’m never going to let you forget you ordered me garbage whiskey in one of my lowest moments.”  
“Then get your own fucking whisky!” Seb said, swatting Harry’s arm.  
Harry laughed. He was feeling lighter than he had in about a month. Seb was just so easy to talk to. Everything with him felt so easy. It reminded Harry of when he first got together with Ginny, when their conversations flowed so easily and their lives fit together so perfectly.   
What did this say about Seb? He made Harry feel a way he hadn’t felt in a long time; completely understood and loved unconditionally. Isn;t that what he should be looking for, not the unreliable enigma that was Draco Malfoy?   
Harry looked back at Seb in the light of the bar. Seb poured another shot of whiskey and tilted his head back. Harry watched as the light caught his hair and made him glow in his own little halo. Then he looked back at Harry with that ridiculous grin on his face, the one that lit up everything. Harry looked away quickly and took another long and fast swing from his own glass. For the moment, drawing his thoughts in alcohol seemed like the best solution.   
Seb began to talk again, but Harry hardly heard him. His attention was drawn to another sudden flash of bright light as someone’s hair caught the light. As the person in question came into focus on the other side of the bar, Harry almost considered leaving on the spot. Draco was making his way towards the bar. Harry didn’t think he had seen him, or he was really good at hiding it. Harry watched as Draco sat down at a bar stool. He tried desperately to look away as Draco ordered a drink (from what Harry could tell, it was a firewhiskey) and took long swings in a solemn silence, all by himself. Harry watched as he finished off the glass and turned in his seat to signal a bartender over to him. Draco turned just enough to have a view of Harry. Draco froze, his face unreadable as he looked back at Harry.  
“Are you alright, Harry?” Seb asked. He began to turn around to see what Harry was looking at, but Harry reached out and pulled Seb to him in one quick move. Without stopping to think, he kissed Seb.  
As Seb leaned into the kiss and deepened their contact, Harry told himself that this was something he should want. He initiated it. Seb was indisputably handsome, kind and generally amazing. He also was kind, patient and understanding. Seb was everything Harry could ever want. But all Harry could picture as he closed his eyes was Draco.   
Harry opened his eyes and pulled away abruptly. He looked immediately towards where Draco was standing. Draco was staring at him, the same unreadable expression seemingly on his face. But Harry knew him too well. Even with the distance between them, he could see the sadness around his eyes, the slight shaking of his hand. He was upset.  
Seb turned around now to see what Harry was staring at. Draco turned around on his heel and walked out of the pub.   
“Oh…” Seb said softly.  
“What?” Harry cleared his throat and tried to focus on Seb.  
“You like him! And this…” he gestured toward himself and Harry, “Was some sort of messed up ploy to make him jealous?”  
“Seb…” Harry started, realizing now he had made a huge error in judgement.  
“Save it,” Seb said harshly, standing up, “Find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”   
With that, Seb left in a rush, leaving Harry to wonder why he couldn’t fucking get his life together.   
\---  
Harry wakes up to the sound of tapping on the window. It takes him a moment to adjust to his settings. The room was small and starkly white, the only decoration being a small painting of a bowl of apples. A thick scent of firewhiskey made it hard to breath, but Harry had been so tired, sad and tipsy last night that he was able to ignore the intense smell and fall asleep on the scratchy sheets. He was in some small motel in Diagon Alley. Harry was pretty sure no one else was staying in this establishment, as the man working at the front desk had given him many confused and concerned looks when he said he wanted to book a room. His confusion was probably a mix of the danger Diagon Alley held at the moment and the fact that Harry Potter wanted to book a room while half crying and slurring on all his words.   
He had been a disaster the night before. After the man, a bloke named George, had shown him to his room, Harry had collapsed on the floor in a fit of tears, blubbering to a complete stranger about how he had lost his kids, the love of his life and his friend all in one day. George had let him cry himself out before telling him he wasn’t in a position to give life advice. When George left, Harry sat in complete silence on the floor, thinking about how much he had fucked up. More than anything, he was replaying his kiss with Seb. Everything about it had felt wrong, out of place. For a brief moment, Harry had thought maybe being with Seb would solve all his problems. Seb was someone his family would support. It would make adjusting to the divorce and his new life much easier to have such a bright presence at his side. But maybe what Harry needed wasn’t a bright presence. Maybe what he needed was Draco. Not that that was ever going to happen. If Harry had learned anything in the past week, it was that he and Draco just weren’t a viable option now, or maybe ever.   
The tapping became louder. Dragging himself out of bed, he made his way to the window and opened it to let in a large tawny owl that he immediately recognized as Ida’s owl, Oba. Realizing he hadn’t spoken to Ida since two nights ago, when he had barged into her house to tell her he believed Blaise was guilty of the attacks, he felt a surge of guilt and untied the note from Oba’s leg. The owl gave him a pointed look as Harry sat on the bed to read the note. Harry almost smiled; Oba reminded him so much of Hedwig and her refusal to do a job without proper recognition.  
Harry reached into his coat pocket and found the little bag of owl treats he liked to carry around for this reason precisely. He tossed a treat into the air, which Oba caught as she flew towards the window and away. Harry returned his attention to the letter, his head throbbing violently as he attempted to read Ida’s letter.  
Harry, come to the Ministry. Another suspect, interrogation today.  
A surge of energy passed through Harry. Another suspect? Already? How could they have found another likely suspect in a day?  
Thankful for the distraction from all his worries, he leapt up from the bed and apparated straight to the front of the Ministry.  
To his surprise, Remmins was standing by the street in front of the old and abandoned phone booth, a secret Ministry entrance.   
“Harry!” he shouted, waving Harry towards him.   
Harry ran towards Remmins, “What’s going on?”  
Remmins grabbed his arm and pulled him into the phone booth. Harry watched as he dialed the numbers 62442 into the phone. When the ladies voice answered, asking who they were and what their business was at the Ministry, Remmins responded. It was all reminiscent of the time Harry went to the Ministry with Mr. Weasley for his trial over whether or not he would be expelled from Hogwarts. Harry hadn’t used this entrance in a long time, as he was either entering as an Auror or with other Aurors. Harry doubted many people still used this entrance at all.  
“Why can’t we go through the fireplaces?” Harry asked.  
Reimmins shook his head, “It’s too dangerous. The Ministry is on a complete lockdown from visitors today. This is the only entrance that will admit the few visitors are still allowed.”  
“Why am I allowed?” Harry asked, “And why is everything so intense? Did the suspect confess?”  
Remmins looked away, “Ida will explain everything,” he hesitated, then continued, “She believes you deserve to be here, as you are the reason she thought of this suspect in the first place. Also, she needs you to give a statement.”  
“Give a statement? Who is this suspect?” Harry asked urgently.  
Just then, the phone booth reached the atrium of the Ministry. The doors opened and Harry followed Remmins as he made his way to the lift. Harry tried to ask more questions as they waited for the lift to reach the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry abruptly stopped talking when he saw the state of level two.  
Wizards and witches were passing every which way, frantically handing off paperwork and apparating into thin air. Many passing Aurors had a look of nervous triumph. There was no doubt in Harry’s mind a confession had been made today.   
“Ron!” called a voice from across the room. Harry spotted Padma rushing out of her office. She spotted Harry and Remmins and stopped, “Harry! Ida is in Auror Savant’s office. She’s expecting you.”  
She then rushed towards the hallway and continued to call Ron’s name, disappearing behind the swarm of frantic Aurors.   
“Go on,” Remmins stated as he spotted Aviary. He made his way to her. After wrapping her in a quick hug, they began to talk urgently as they walked towards Ida and Aviary’s office.   
Harry hurried down the office to Savant’s office. He gave a knock that was immediately answered by the door swinging open. Ida was sitting on the floor of the office, papers spread like a fan around her.   
“Harry!” she said abruptly, creating a path through the paperwork with her wand so that Harry could walk through the room and sit down besides her.  
“What’s going on?” he asked desperately, “Who’s the suspect?”  
“This morning, Healer Darius Brayan confessed to the Imperius attacks,” Ida cut straight to the point.  
“What?!” Harry exclaimed, “No, that can’t be right! Brayan is a good man, a hard worker. Is he even a pureblood?”  
Ida nodded, “Yes. And he’s not the man you think he is. After refusing veritaserum, we found a significant reason for him to take it and discovered that he has orchestrated every attack.”  
“With Kareach?” Harry demanded.  
Ida shook her head, “Harry, Kareach is just a fantasy. Brayan confessed that he forced young purebloods to work for him. That’s how he managed to make these attacks as widespread as they were.”  
Harry shook his head, still not able to believe what Ida was saying,  
. “How? How did you… how?” Harry asked, “He was my mentor. My friend. I trusted him.”  
Ida reached for his arm, “I know, Harry. He is, well was, a well respected healer. He donated to all kinds of charities. He was a teacher that showed nothing but kindness to the trainees. None of it makes sense, and that’s the point. He had the perfect disguise. That’s what got me thinking: the last time I talked to him, after the St. Mungos attack, he was so polite. Too polite, almost. He had so many questions about you, Harry. About whether or not you were still well connected to the Auror department. At the time, he passed it off making conversation. But the more I considered it overtime, the stranger it seemed that he would be so curious about your relationship with the Aurors after his hospital had lost twenty people from an attack. I thought about that yesterday, after Blaise didn’t work out. Brayan reminded me of Blaise, because he was a well respected and likeable man who was at both the hospital and quidditch stadium during the respective attacks. Not to mention he would have a much better access to poison as a healer than Blaise would as the head of Games and Sports. That’s when I remembered something- we saw Brayan in Diagon Alley after one of the first attacks. He was in the Owl Emporium, hiding behind some barrels. Do you remember?”  
Harry's eyes lit up in shock, “Yes! I do! He said he was shopping when he heard people screaming and decided to hide. We believed him, because he said he was a halfblood!”  
“Exactly!” Ida turned to Harry, anger flashing in her eyes, “He lied. He has been lying for years! After some digging last night, I found out the real identity of his father. Brayan had told everyone that his real father was a muggle named Horacio, a man that was his stepfather for years before he died a couple years ago of an unidentified reason. Hours of digging lead me to his actual father, a man named Gert Foget. Harry,” she said, her voice taking on a tone of enthusiasm he recognized from whenever she solved a case, “Foget was a death eater. He died serving Voldemort. The inscription on his grave is, get this ‘Death for the right cause is the only pure way to die’,” she then reached for a small newspaper article, “Look at this! It says right here that ‘Foget’s son, Darius Foget, choose his dad’s inscription’. This was during the second wizarding war. Brayan would have been in his late twenties at the time!”  
Harry grabbed the article, “Where did you get this?”   
“It’s one of the newspapers written for Voldemort supporters we discovered during the Blackwell case. I remembered the name Foget and went through the articles with Savant until I found it,” she gestured at the floor, which Harry now realized was covered in articles just like the one in his hand.  
“Brayan had a dark past, Harry. Once we gave him truth serum, it all came out,” Ida said.  
“Everything?” Harry seked, “What has he done?”  
“He has tried to follow in his father’s footsteps since your defeat of Voldemort. Get this; years and years ago, just after the second wizarding war, he went to Cambodia to search for this rare poison he had heard about from his father.”  
“Chann,” Harry whispered, everything becoming very real as he imagined Brayan talking to the same people Draco had, finding out everything about the poison for all the wrong reasons.   
“Yes,” Ida stared at him, “How do you know about that?”  
Harry decided to tell the truth. It didn’t matter anymore, he supposed, “Draco found out weeks ago. He went on a trip to Cambodia years ago and heard about the poison from locals. He hadn’t thought about it until now, when he realized the effects lined up perfectly with the state of victims after the Imperius attacks.”  
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Ida snapped, her expression odd. She looked partly angry and partly… upset? Worried? Harry suddenly felt guilty for not telling her. Did Ida think he didn’t trust her?  
“Ida, I wanted to. But I promised Draco I wouldn’t talk to anyone about it. We wanted to be as cautious as possible,” Harry decided to leave out the fact he had told Padma and Ron.   
“I see,” Ida said stiffly.  
“Ida…” Harry began.  
“No, this is not important,” she shot up from the floor, “I’ve told you what I needed to. Let the record show that I had to make a special plea to get you here today, because I thought you deserved to know the truth about everything, after how much you helped yesterday. But I see now that we are not on the same page about telling each other important information.”  
“Ida, please listen…” he started as she walked towards the door, collecting her papers with her wand as she went.  
“No time. You have a statement to give, I have so many things to do that I can’t waste another second. Go to the first interrogation room. Aviary should be in there now, ready to take your statement.”  
Harry stayed rooted to his spot, watching as Ida slammed the door behind her. Although he was angry with himself for upsetting yet another one of his closest friends, he was much more focused on the fact his boss was behind everything. Harry couldn’t fight a sinking feeling that this wasn’t right. Yes, it seemed quite obvious that Brayan was behind a lot of this. The Death Eater father, his admittance to going to Cambodia, his perfect cover-up; it all made sense. But Harry had believed Draco all the times he spoke about Kareach. Brayan couldn’t be the only culprit. Draco had talked of a pair running Kareach. It couldn’t be just him and a bunch of purebloods he employed to do his bidding. There was more to this story.  
That is what he attempted to tell Aviary after he told her everything he knew about Brayan during his statement.  
“Harry,” Aviary said gently, “I know it’s hard to accept, but we’ve had a real breakthrough. We have proof that Brayan is behind all of this. It’s time to move on with your life. Maybe focus on your…” she hesitated and looked awkwardly to the side.  
“What?” Harry snapped, “My personal life? Did you read the article that no doubt came out today, telling all of England that I’m getting a divorce and that I’m gay? Thank you, but I don’t need advice from a naive, over enthusiastic child who knows nothing about what’s really going on in my life.”  
Aviary eyes grew wide as Harry sat up quickly and made his way to the door.   
\---  
Harry apparated into the living room of his house. Until he saw the shocked looks on his kids faces, he had forgotten he wasn’t supposed to be here at the moment.   
“Daddy!” Lily shouted, running towards him and wrapping herself around him.  
Albus and James did not attempt to run towards him. They sat in silence.  
“Hi, sweetheart,” he said softly to his daughter.  
“Why are you here?” James said angrily, “Mum doesn’t want you here.”  
“I know,” Harry looked at his three kids and began to cry, “I wanted to see you.”  
As he said it, Harry realized it was true. Harry had left the Ministry feeling completely lost and angry. Without thinking, he had gone to the place he needed. Where his kids were.  
Harry crumbled to the floor and held on to Lily, who was now patting him on the back. The situation would have made him laugh if he wasn’t so sad at the moment.   
“James? Albus? What’s going on?”  
Harry looked up to see Molly walk into the living area. Harry realized she must have been watching them for the day, as this was usually Harry’s day off in which he was at home with the kids. Her eyes expanded as she saw Harry hunched over, crying on the floor.  
“Harry?” she whispered, stunned.  
“Molly, I’ll leave,” he said, standing up. His heart broke as Lily shouted in protest.  
“No!” Molly shouted. Harry turned around to face her, “Don’t leave, Harry.”  
Harry shook his head, “There’s no way you want to see me right now, Molly.”  
“Actually, you are exactly who I have been wanting to see,” Molly walked towards him, “Harry, I am not upset at you.”  
“But surely Ginny has told you everything?” he asked sadly.  
“Yes, of course. She told me that you and her decided, mutually, that you would be better off apart. And from what she has told me, it sounds as though you are making the right decision. As for the accusation of Mr. Zabini, I don’t believe Ginny is completely in the right on that.”  
Harry stared at Molly, “How? I messed up. I accused an innocent man of terrible crimes.”  
“You did what?” James asked, shocked.  
“James,” Molly commanded, “Please take your brother and sister into the kitchen for some pie. You can serve yourselves. Your father and I will be in momentarily to talk to you.”  
James looked as though he was about to protest, but one glance at the look on Molly’s face sent him into the other room with Lily and Albus in tow.  
“Harry,” Molly continued, softer this time, “I do not blame you for accusing Mr. Zabini. Although I do believe you should have talked to my daughter about it, especially due to their, uh, situation, it sounds as though you were trying your hardest to solve the case. Ron told me that the Aurors had reasonable doubt for them to question Mr. Zabini. And while Ginny is still upset with you, I think she is beginning to realize that she can’t hold this against you forever.”  
“Molly,” Harry choked out. She then gave him exactly what she needed: a long and comforting hug. Harry had forgotten how much he depended on the only mother figure he had ever had.  
“Sweetheart, don’t ever think I could hate you,” Molly said as she pulled away, “Not for this, not for the divorce. Of course I am sad that you and Ginny will no longer be together, but I understand that not all couples can last forever. You both need something different, and it sounds as if you have come to that understanding together. Both of you will always have me, my sweet Harry.”  
Harry fell back into her arms, crying so hard he could hardly catch his breath. Molly let him, not wavering until Harry finally pulled away, wiping water from his face.   
“Thank you, Molly,” he said softly.  
“Why don’t we go see your kids?” Molly asked kindly, “I have a feeling they need to talk to you.”  
Harry nodded and followed Molly into the kitchen. Lily, Albus and James were sitting side by side at the table, all eating the largest slices of apple pie Harry had ever seen.  
The sight made Harry laugh. This laugh came with a surging feeling of relief. It felt so good to laugh after last night and this morning. He sat down at the table and took his own slice of blueberry pie (it was the only pie he would eat; he did suppose he was a bit picky) and began to eat.   
After a couple minutes of eating as Lily chatted away (she was the only one not affected by the awkwardness of the situation), James looked straight at Harry and interrupted her chattering about a robin she had seen out the window this morning to ask,   
“Dad? Can I talk to you?”  
Harry looked at his eldest in surprise, “Of course, James.”  
“In private,” James said, standing up from the table.  
Molly gave him a look of encouragement as he got up and followed James to his room. James made his way to his bed. Harry followed and sat down besides him.  
“Dad?” James said softly, “Who did you accuse of the attacks? That’s what you and Grandma were talking about. And what mom was upset about last night, right? The attacks?”  
Harry hesitated. He looked into his son's face: innocent, curious. Wanting the truth from someone he trusted. Harry owed him that much.  
“Yes, James. I accused Mr. Zabini of being the attacker,” Harry admitted.  
James looked at him in alarm, “Why? Were you really so upset with mom for cheating?”  
“What? No, of course not! Listen, your mother and I are not on bad terms.”  
James gave a short laugh, “Okay, dad. So she didn’t kick you out of the house yesterday?”  
“Okay,” Harry conceded, “We weren’t on bad terms until yesterday. Like we told you all, we came to the mutual decision to get a divorce. We both love you very much, but we can’t have you live in a house where the two of us aren’t happy anymore.”  
“Yes, yes, I’ve heard all of that,” James said, “What I really need to hear is why you would accuse her new boyfriend of killing a bunch of people if you aren’t upset with her.”  
Harry sighed, “Because I thought he did it, James. I swear. Much of my evidence pointed to that. Believe me, I didn’t want to accuse him. Blaise is a good bloke.”  
James looked at him in confusion, “What evidence? You aren’t an Auror anymore.”  
“It’s a long story,” Harry admitted.  
“One that has to do with Mr. Malfoy?” James asked.  
Harry shook his head, “How on earth are you this perceptive? I was never this smart at your age. You are only ten!”  
“Answer the question,” James said, crossing his arms.  
“Yes, it has to do with Mr. Malfoy. We worked together a bit to figure out as much as we could about the attacks,” Harry admitted.  
“And now you love him,” James asked, eyebrows raised.  
Harry rolled his eyes, “We are not a couple, James! None of this matters, anyhow. What matters is your mother and I making things right so that you and your siblings' lives can be as normal as possible.”  
“I’m not worried about that,” James said softly. He looked up at his dad, his face honest, “I know I will always have both of you to count on. I love you dad, and I’m sorry I became so upset after you first told us.”  
Harry looked at his son, tears building up again, “James…”  
“I know,” James grinned softly, “I’m too good of a son.”  
Harry smiled, “Something like that.”  
He pulled his son into a hug, holding on tight,  
\---  
Harry sat on the couch, waiting for Ginny to get home. He was trying to control his nerves by baking, a pleasure he hadn’t had time for in months, but it was to no avail. Harry hadn’t told Ginny he had been with the kids and Molly all day as she was at meeting after meeting, trying to figure out how to best move forward with quidditch after the fiasco that was her last match. He was planning on talking to her, really talking to her, as soon as she arrived. Maybe it was too soon, but talking to Molly and James had made him realize that anytime spent fighting with Ginny was detrimental to themselves and their family. She deserved a long apology and explanation from him. She deserved to know, as clearly as he could express, that none of what happened was out of spite.   
Harry slid the scones he had spent the past hour making into the oven. He stared at the door of the oven, not allowing himself to move because he knew that as soon as he did, he would be forced to deal with his thoughts. Honestly, Harry had had enough of dealing with his thoughts to last a lifetime.   
Harry decided to focus on cleaning the kitchen. If he did it the muggle way, he would be occupied for a long time. He set to work scrubbing the large mixing bowl when he heard his name called from the other room.  
At first he thought it was Ginny, but then he remembered Ginny still had no idea he had shown up back in their house. Harry made his way curiously to the other room, wondering who wanted to talk to him at ten o’clock at night. A part of him hoped it was Draco, coming to talk to him about Brayan. Secretly, Harry had been hoping Draco would contact him about it all day. A part of their investigation was coming to a close, and it stung that neither of them had contacted each other.  
Harry gasped when he turned the corner. The last person he would have expected had their face engulfed in flames in Harry’s fireplace.  
“Ron?” Harry blurted, “What are you doing here?”  
“Can I come through?” Ron asked urgently.  
Harry recognized the desperation in Ron’s voice, “Yes, yes. Of course.”  
He watched as Ron’s head disappeared and then his entire body materialized moments later. He looked exactly how someone who had spent the day at an office who had captured a confirmed criminal would look. His hair was a disaster and his eyes were bloodshot. But there was more than that in Ron’s face, which is what made Harry believe this was about much more than Brayan. This was the expression Ron held when something disastrous had happened and he was feeling hopeless as to how to fix it.  
“Ron?” Harry asked, “What is it?”  
“Remmins is dead,” Ron choked. Harry watched as tears brimmed in the corners of his eyes.  
“No,” Harry whispered, “No, he couldn’t be! I saw him… I saw him…”  
Harry trailed off as he pictured the kind and hardworking kid that Harry had seen only hours earlier. He was so young. So full of life. Certainly he wasn’t dead.   
“How?” Harry whispered. Ron didn’t answer. He was shaking uncontrollably as he stared at the wall.  
Deciding to forget all about the fact that they technically weren’t on speaking terms, Harry threw his arms around Ron. He guessed that the whole Auror department was in panic mode, and that Ron hadn’t stopped to grief since he received the news. Or saw the news. Harry still had no idea what had happened.   
Ron accepted his hug and cried into his shoulder, “Harry, he was like a son to me. I know that sounds a bit ridiculous, but the last couple years he’s looked up to me. He admired me! The kid even told me that, point blank. No one’s ever admired me like that. He was an extraordinary person.”  
“I’m so sorry, Ron,” Harry was planning on hugging him for as long as it took, but Ron pulled back moments later.   
“You need to hear what happened,” Ron’s voice wavered but he spoke with determination, “So, this morning Brayan was interviewed, as you know.”  
Harry nodded, encouraging Ron to continue.  
“Ida, Padma and Brayan did the interviewing. So Remmins wasn’t present during the actual interrogation. But, as you know, Savant lets Aurors watch the interrogation via his pensieve,” Harry nodded again. Savant believed that having every Auror watch interrogations for big cases like this allowed the entire group to have a stronger idea of the case.   
“So,” Ron continued, “Remmins and Aviary watched Savant’s memory together after the initial interrogation. I wasn’t there, but Aviary told me everything. She said Remmins began to freak out only minutes into the interrogation. Apparently, he had realized that the way Brayan was acting unusually. He told Aviary he believed that Brayan was under the Imperius curse while he was speaking under the influence of truth serum!”  
“Is that even possible?” Harry asked.   
“No, it’s not. Remember? We learned in Auror training that Veritaserum can very rarely be fought off by the drinker, so it is virtually impossible for a person to fight off the Veritaserum through them, even if it is through the means of the Imperius curse. My guess is whoever gave him the Veritaserum gave him a decoy.”  
“As in he didn’t actually take any?” Harry asked, “And he was forced to say whatever the caster wanted him to?”  
“Yes,” Ron answered.  
“Wait,” Harry frowned, “What does this all have to do with Remmins?”  
“Right,” Ron said, “Aviary said that Remmins went home after they viewed the memory. She went to check on him about thirty minutes later, as he said he would only be gone for ten. Aviary walked into his house and was about to call out Remmins’s name, when she heard someone else talking. She said this person was threatening to kill Remmins if he didn’t tell everyone he was wrong about Brayan being under the Imperius curse.”  
“No,” Harry shook his head, “That’s bloody insane! Does she have any idea who it was?”  
“She didn’t have time to figure it out,” Ron explained, “She left immediately after hearing this in the hopes of getting help from the other Aurors. We all rushed to help as soon as she told us, but we were too late. Remmins was already dead by the time we got there.”  
“Oh, Aviary,” Harry whispered. He remembered the day in the hospital, after the attacks. The expression on Aviary’s face when Remmins had told her he loved her for the first time. Now he imagined her, rushing to the Ministry for help, only to return with Remmins dead.  
“Who could have done this?” Harry asked.  
“I sincerely have no idea, Harry,” Ron sighed heavily as he sat down on the couch, “I hope you don’t mind if I sit. I haven’t sat down in what feels like days.”  
“Of course,” Harry felt a little odd at the formality in Ron’s words. Now, however, wasn’t the time to address the awkwardness still lingering in their relationship.  
Harry sat down beside him as Ron continued to speak, “Aviary said she didn’t recognize the voice. Which makes very little sense, because the only people in the interrogation room at the time were Savant, Ida and Padma. Not that I think it was any of them. But they are the most likely options if someone was indeed casting an Imperius curse.”  
“Are they under suspicion?” Harry wondered.  
Ron shook his head, “No. Well, at least not yet. There isn’t solid proof that Brayan was even under the Imperius curse. The only person that heard Remmins say any of this was Aviary, and while we all trust her, we can’t place our head Auror and two of our best Aurors on trial for something they most likely are not a part of.”  
“What if someone else was in the room?” Harry asked, “Disguised so that no one knew they were there? That way all the Aurors were fooled. That was probably the same person who killed Remmins!”  
“My thoughts exactly,” Ron agreed, “I know in my gut that Savant, Ida and Padma are innocent. I’ve known them all for so long. I’ve seen them give up so much of their time and energy to fight against these attacks and so many other incidents just like them. There is no way they were involved. Even if they are all purebloods.”  
“That doesn’t matter,” Harry said, “You’re a pureblood too and you would never do anything like this. They are all like you, Ron. I know they are.”  
Ron nodded, “Then it’s just a matter of figuring out what the hell happened today. As of right now, we are going to hold Brayan in custody until we figure everything out.”  
“You have to,” Harry said, “I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I do think it was him. What Ida was saying made a good amount of sense.”  
“I know. I’m relieved we’ve found one source of the attacks, but clearly this case is far from over. I think you were right, Harry. This was done by a group of people, and I don’t just mean Brayan and a bunch of mindless followers. I mean a real group… not necessarily Kareach, but… possibly? Who knows at this point,” Ron sighed, “Harry, I really thought this was over. I’m starting to think it will never end. I’m already constantly worried about my wife’s health. What’s next for her? Will they just try to kill her?”  
“Oh, Ron,” Harry said softly. He couldn’t begin to imagine how scary Ron’s position must be, “I’m so sorry. But you are getting closer. You already caught one of them. I have full faith that you will get to the bottom of this. And I’ll be here to help, anyway you need me.”  
“You and Draco will be here to help, I hope,” Ron looked Harry straight in the eye, “Harry, I was a fucking wanker last week when you and Ginny told me about the divorce. Or when James told me, to be exact. I freaked out because I never pictured you and Ginny separating. I got super protective and weird about it, especially when I thought you had cheated on her, because she’s my little sister and I couldn’t stand the fact of you hurting her and, by extension, hurting me. It felt like betrayal. But,” he reached over to grab onto Harry’s arm, “I’ve been thinking about it. A lot. And talking to Hermione. A lot.”  
Harry laughed, “That’s always a good thing.”  
“It is,” Ron returned a small smile, “Because she helped me to realize that you and Ginny aren’t right for each other anymore. And that’s alright, because you will both always be in each other's lives. And in my life. Things will be different, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you two are both happy. If that means that Ginny is with Blaise and you are with Draco, so be it. You both could do a lot worse.”  
Harry grinned at his friend. He could feel his eyes shining with tears that threatened to spill over at any moment, “We really could.”  
“Do you mean that, Ron?”  
Harry and Ron both turned to see Ginny in the doorway,tears of her own glistening in her eyes.  
Ron stood up and crossed the room to his sister until he was standing directly in front of her, “Of course,” he said softly.  
Ginny let out a small cry and launched herself into her brother’s arms, shaking as she hugged him fiercely. Harry couldn’t help it; he began to cry himself.  
When Ginny pulled away, she sent Harry a look that read ‘I’m upset you are here but I’m too happy with my brother right now to fully care’.  
“Why are you here?” she asked, not exactly harshly.  
“I’m here to apologize, Ginny,” Harry stood up to walk towards Ron and Ginny, “And to make sure you know that what I did was never out of spite. That nothing I ever do towards you will be out of spite.”  
Ginny nodded, “I know that, Harry. Blaise is going to be okay, just so you know. He has his job back and everything. He won’t be head of security, but maybe that’s for the best. It was never his true passion anyway,” she looked up at Harry, “And I’m sorry to. For making a scene at St. Mungos. And, you know, outing you to the world. That wasn’t cool.”  
Harry smiled, “Ginny…”  
But Harry wasn’t able to finish his sentence. Just then, a voice rang out frantically from the other room.  
“Harry! I need to talk to you!”  
Harry exchanged a look with Ron and Ginny and then crossed the floor of his living area to the front hallway. In his front entrance was Aviary Dover, a look of pure terror on her face.


	12. Chapter 12

“Aviary?” Harry rushed towards her side and grabbed her arm. She looked as if she was about to faint, but as Harry touched her, she pushed him back and shook her head violently.  
“I have something to say and I need to say it quickly,” Aviary said firmly.  
Harry had never heard her voice sound like this. He was used to Aviary’s voice always having a hint of optimism, a tone that told Harry that she believed everything would always work out. But Harry heard none of that in her voice at the moment. Although he knew her boyfriend that she cared about deeply had just died out of suspicious circumstances, he had a dark feeling what she was about to say was somehow much worse than that.   
Harry decided not to speak as he looked at Aviary expectantly. Ron and Ginny were frozen in their positions at each side of him with expressions of alarm and concern as they waited for what Aviary had to say.  
“I lied earlier when I told the Aurors I didn’t know who killed Gani,” Aviary’s voice cracked at the mention of Gani’s name, but she recovered quickly to a face of firm determination. A feeling of dread creeped through Harry as he waited to hear who Aviary would say.  
“You know who killed Gani?” Ron gasped, completely interrupting Aviary as she attempted to continue speaking, “But you said…”  
“I know what I said,” Aviary snapped, “But there was no possible way for me to tell you! Not with Ida in the office!”  
Aviary collapsed on the floor as the words left her. She buried her head in her hands as sobs rolled through her body.   
Ginny fell to the floor beside Aviary to comfort her, but Ron and Harry stood in shock.  
“Is she saying…” Ron trailed off, not able to finish his sentence.  
“No,” Harry said firmly, “There’s no way.”  
He bent down beside Aviary, “It was Aries Reyes, wasn’t it? That no good bastard! That’s why you couldn’t tell anyone at the office! Because Ida and Aries are cousins!”  
Aviary’s head snapped up. Her hands fell to her sides as she turned to face Harry directly, “No. I will not have you believe anything but the truth, not even for a moment,” Ginny moved to pat her back, but she brushed it off, “Gani Remmins was murdered by Ida, not two hours ago, in his own house! I heard her, telling him that he needed to take back what he said about Brayan being Imperius-ed or she would kill him! And Gani, Gani refused! Of course he did. He believed in justice and truth above all else, because he was a good man with strong morals. I thought Ida was the same way, but I was wrong. We all were wrong.”  
Aviary said Ida’s name as if it tasted disgusting in her mouth.  
“Aviary…” Harry began, his voice wobbly.  
“No. Harry do not tell me I imagined this all. I know Ida’s voice. When you are in multiple high pressure situations with someone, you know their voice all too well. And now all I hear is her voice, saying she was going to kill him!”  
Harry knew in this moment there was no more denying that Ida did it. Despite the fact everything about the truth felt wrong to him, he trusted Aviary. The seriousness and pure anger enforced in her words left little doubt in Harry’s mind that she could have been imagining Ida being the murderer.   
Ida is a murderer. What did this all mean? Ida was there during all the attacks, of course. She was always on site as an Auror. That’s why the Aurors all believed the attacks were an inside job. Ida had been in the interrogation with Brayan. She must have set him up and forced him to confess after giving him a fake truth serum. As all these pieces fell into place, Harry felt his legs give out below him.  
Ron was at his side straightaway, steadying him on the floor.  
“I trusted her!” Harry screamed, “With my life! She was one of my best friends! I told her things that I haven’t told anyone. I thought I knew her!”  
“We all did,” Aviary spat, “I’ve worked side by side with her for the past couple months. Hearing her voice… speaking to Gani…” she trailed off as her face went still with fear and anger.  
Harry realized as he stared at Aviary that whatever anger he was feeling towards Ida was nothing compared to what Aviary was feeling, “Aviary, I’m so sorry,” he whispered.  
As the words left his mouth, he knew they weren’t even close to being what Aviary needed to hear. Nothing would be. What happened to her was something that could never be fixed with words.   
To his surprise, Aviary moved across the floor to where Harry was sitting with Ron’s hand still on his arm, and wrapped her arms around the both of them. She wasn’t crying, but she was gripping on to the both of them tightly as she breathed heavily into Harry’s shoulder.  
He gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder. Through the years, from the war to his job as an Auror, he had comforted more than enough grieving significant others, parents, brothers, sisters, friends and any loved ones to last a lifetime. By now, he should be better at it. But as he felt Aviary begin to softly cry into his shoulder, he lost all control of himself. He cried with her, feeling her pain, her shock, her exhaustion with everything. It never does get easier.  
They stay in this position for another moment until Ginny murmurs, “I never trusted her.”  
The three of them look up from their hug and at Ginny, “What?” Harry asked.  
“When my mother told stories about atrocious pure blood families, she always talked about the Reyes,” Ginny explained softly, “Remember, Ron? She would talk about how the Reyes, both the ones living in England and the ones still in the Philippines, have worked to erase this reputation as a ‘corrupt’ pure blood family and how she believed that they only did this to disguise the fact that they were still actively working against muggleborns and muggles. She told me to be wary of old pureblood families in general, because this hatred ran deep. The thing is, I didn’t think anything of Ida being a part of the Reyes family. I mean, think of Tonks and Sirius. Your family doesn’t determine who you are. But something about Ida always seemed… off.”  
“What do you mean?” Ron had made his way out of the group hug and was now standing up next to his sister.   
“I mean… the way she looked at Hermione. Or Dean. When she thought no one was looking. I chalked it up to general mistrust of people or just a resting angry face. She is an Auror, after all. But something always felt, like I said, off with her. Like she was holding back something,” Ginny finished.  
“She really did it all, didn’t she?” Ron asked, his voice dangerously soft. Then, without warning, he kicked the chair in front of him, sending it across the room.  
“How could she?!” Ron shouted, “She was my colleague! I’ve trusted her with so much! And she repays me by putting my wife in danger? I can’t…” he stopped and angrily kicked another chair.  
“I know,” Aviary said shortly, “And we have to go back and face her.”  
“No way,” Ron shook his head angrily, “I’ll fucking kill her if I see her.”  
“I just spent two hours pretending I knew nothing about what she did,” Aviary said, her voice hollow, “I think you can manage.”  
“No,” Harry turned to face Aviary, “You can’t go back.”  
“You think I would if I had a choice?!” Aviary asked fiercely, “There’s no other choice! She’ll know I’m on to her if I don’t go back!”  
“She’ll think you're grieving,” Harry insisted, “And even if she doesn’t, we will hide you in a place she will never be able to find. Aviary, you are a muggleborn. If Ida,” Harry cringed as her name left his mouth, “Finds out you know, she won’t hesitate to kill you.”  
“Harry…” Aviary began.  
“Harry’s right, Aviary,” Ron interrupted, “You need to be protected. So do any other muggleborns in the Auror department. We can’t lose any more innocent lives that are in our control.”  
Aviary huffed, “I have to be there. This is Gani we are talking about. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him!”  
“All he would want,” Harry said gently, “Is for you to be safe.”  
He stared at Aviary, her eyes wide. She eventually nodded and looked down quietly. Despite her desire to fight, she knew Harry was right.   
Harry turned now to Ron, “You need to be at the Ministry,” Harry asserted, “Aviary’s right. You can’t afford to arise anymore suspicions. You’ve already been gone for too long. Not to mention, we need someone who knows the truth on the inside. Monitoring her. Tell Padma. The two of you can figure out this together. Just be careful”  
Ron nodded determinedly as Harry moved on to address Ginny, “Gin, are you okay to watch over the kids? You know where I’ll be.”  
“Of course, Harry. Just promise me you’ll be careful,” she whispered.   
“I will,” he said gently, taking her hand.   
Harry moved to reach for Aviary to apparate when he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. He jolted with surprise; there is only one person who would be calling him at this time of day.  
Sure enough, it was Draco. Why he was calling Harry was beyond him, but he assumed it must be urgent if he wanted to willingly talk to Harry.  
Ginny, Ron and Aviary all watched him with surprise as he answered the phone, “Hello?”  
“I have news,” Draco said, “And I don’t want to tell you, but you’re all I have.”  
“Same here,” Harry said quickly, “Apparate to my house.”  
Harry hung up the phone. The group looked at him, expecting him to say something.  
Harry didn’t have to. A moment later, Draco appeared in the center of the room.  
“Draco?” Ginny asked, “What are you doing here?”  
Draco looked around the room, “More importantly, what’s going on here?”  
“No time for any of this,” Harry grabbed on to one of both Draco’s and Aviary’s arms, “I’ll see you both later,” he said to Ron and Ginny as the three of them were engulfed in the familiar uncomfortable darkness of apparation.  
\---  
Moments later, Harry, Aviary and Draco landed in front of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Or, as what the muggles, Draco and Aviary saw, an empty alley between Number 11 and Number 13 Grimmauld Place.   
“Harry?” Draco asked, his voice strained. He and Aviary were still gripping tightly to Harry’s arm, “Where the hell are we?”  
Harry didn’t answer. He looked left and right. A muggle woman was walking towards them from the right, a small corgi trotting in front of her on a leash. Harry gestured to Aviary and Draco to be quiet. Aviary and Draco seemed to understand, as they walked silently with Harry towards a park bench. The woman gave them an odd look as she passed, her face half lit up by the light of the streetlamps. Harry supposed they did look odd, as Harry was dressed in an old t-shirt and pajama bottoms while Aviary was still wearing her Auror robes. They waited patiently until the woman disappeared around a turn after the last house on the block before Harry began to whisper furiously to Aviary and Draco:  
“Number 12, Grimmauld Place is located between Number 11 and Number 13.”  
“What?” they whispered back.  
“Think that!” Harry insisted, “That should work. I’ve never actually brought anyone new here.”  
They both gave him a confused look but they didn’t say anything else, so Harry could only assume they were reciting his words in their minds.  
Sure enough, a moment later, the gap between Number 11 and Number 13 began to widen. Draco and Aviary looked on in amazement as Number 12 Grimmauld Place appeared before them. Harry gripped both of their arms and led them into the house quickly.  
Harry hadn’t been in Grimmauld Place for years, and it showed. As the three of them walked into the ancient Black house, they encountered coatings of dust and a thick musty smell that consumed the surrounding air. After the war, Harry had taken care of the house for years. He and Ginny agreed they did not want to live there under any circumstances, but they did consider turning it into a place to stay or hold parties. It did have an ideal location, being in the city of London itself. But after a couple years of routine cleaning, both Harry and Ginny had gotten so busy that they had slowly neglected the house. This was now in Harry’s favor, as the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix, as well as all the Weasley kids and himself, were the only ones who could access the house as secret keepers.  
Draco released his arm as soon as they were inside and began to look around. Aviary held on tightly, her eyes closed as she breathed tightly.  
“A Fidelus Charm?” Draco quit looking around to address Harry.  
Harry nodded, “I’m a secret keeper.”  
“How…” Draco’s voice trailed off as he noticed the emblem on the back of the front door.  
“That’s a Black family emblem!” he exclaimed. He faced Harry, his eyes hot, “ You took us to a Black residence? As we are trying to escape murderous purebloods?”  
“Trust me, this place is safe…” Harry began to explain, but he was cut off as Draco realized something.  
“This was the headquarters! Of the Order of the Phoenix!” Draco gasped.  
“How do you know that?” Harry asked as Aviary opened her eyes and said, “It was?”  
“It has to be! My mother and father always talked about how Voldemort suspected the Order was using a former Black residence as the headquarters. They were so upset… talked about how it was a disgrace on the family name…” Draco trailed off as he looked around more. He spotted the portrait of Sirius’s mother on the wall, covered in the drapings that were always left in front of it.  
“Draco, don’t…” Harry began, but Draco moved towards the painting.  
“What’s under there?” Aviary said nervously as Draco pulled the drawings away to reveal Sirius’s mother, Walburga Black.  
Walburga opened her eyes slowly as Draco stood in front of her. She no longer screamed whenever she heard voices in the hall, but she detested being disturbed. Harry waited for the screams to start, but nothing happened.  
“You,” she said in her shrill voice, “Look exactly like the respectable man my dear niece Narcissa married. You must be little Draco!”  
Harry looked at the portrait in surprise. He had never heard Walburga talk so kindly. She began to look almost excited as she realized who Draco was, something Harry could have never imagined on a face he had grown accustomed to having scream at him.   
Draco visibly stiffened, “Aunt Walburga?” he asked softly.  
“Oh, Draco! A Black! I thought this day would never come. I know your parents would never have raised you to join that awful Potter and his friends! You are certainly here to take back the house, aren’t you, my dear?” she gushed.  
Draco took a step back, “I am here to do nothing of the sort,” he moved to swipe the curtains shut as Walburga began to protest.  
“Draco! What is the meaning of this! Certainly you can agree mudbloods should not be in our house!” Walburga screamed.  
“You know what?” Draco tore the curtain completely open and spoke directly to Walburga, “My parents taught me awful things. Do you know why? It’s because they came from awful ancestors with disgusting beliefs, just like yours! You should be proud that the Order was based out of your house. They changed the wizarding world for the better. This is where I wish I would have been throughout the war. And I realize I’m shouting this all at a painting, but I don’t care! I’ve wanted to scream at my ancestors for so long, and this is the closest I can bloody get!”   
With that, he ignored Walburga’s angry screams as he pulled the curtains shut and turned to Aviary and Harry, who were still standing at the doorway.  
“Where do we go to get away from the monster I call my aunt?” he said.  
Harry would have laughed if the situation they were in wasn’t so tragic. He grabbed Aviary’s hand and walked towards the first set of stairs outside of the entrance hall. Draco trailed as Harry led them to the very first room he had visited the first time he came to Grimmauld Place years ago. It was the room he and Ron slept in when he stayed here the summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts.  
Harry sat down on the floor in the room with his back propped against the bed. Aviary sat down next to him, her eyes wide as she took in the decor of the room. Draco sat down reluctantly opposite of them, his back against the wall.  
“I thought we would be more comfortable up here, farther away from the main hall,” Harry stated. This room was the one they had spent the most time redecorating when they were renovating the house after the war. It was completely modernized, any trace of Black memorabilia gone.   
Draco nodded. Harry could tell he was relieved to see a room that wasn’t decorated like his childhood home. Aviary turned to Harry,   
“Was this house really the headquarters to the Order?” she asked. Harry heard a hint of excitement in her voice for the first time since she had arrived at his house that evening.  
“Yes,” Harry answered, “It was the childhood home of Sirius Black, so as the only remaining Black who had lived here, he knew the location of the house.”  
“So Sirius was the original secret keeper?” Aviary asked, “For the Fidelus charm?”  
Harry shook his head, “No. That was Dumbledore. When he died, all the people he had told became secret keepers.”  
Aviary raised her eyebrows, “So anyone who was in the Order can get in?”  
Harry could sense she was a little alarmed, so he attempted to comfort her, “Yes, but there is no one to worry about, of course. Most of the original order is dead. The only ones who know about it now are the Weasleys, Hermione, Fleur, Kingsley, Hagrid and McGonnagall. And besides, none of them have been here in years. I own the house, so Ginny and I are the only ones who have really been here since after the war.”  
Draco, who had been sitting in silence, began to speak when he heard this, “You own the house?!” he asked.  
“Yes. Sirius was the rightful owner and he left the house to me when he passed,” Harry said simply.  
Draco shook his head. To Harry’s surprise, he laughed shortly, “That’s a way to give say ‘fuck you’ to the Death Eaters. Become rightful owner to one of their ancestral houses.”  
Harry almost smiled at this, but then the reason they were all there came crashing around him. This wasn’t a meeting. He and Draco weren’t joking over tea. Aviary’s boyfriend had been murdered by one of his best friends. He knew the truth and he had no fucking idea what to do with it.  
As if sensing his inner turmoil, Draco asked sternly, “Harry, what is going on? Why are we here?”  
Harry began to explain what had happened, but Aviary cut him off, “Harry, I need to know why I should trust Draco with this information. I have no reason to trust him as of right now, so I really don’t want you telling him something that could put me and so many other people in danger.”  
Harry nodded, “Of course, Aviary,” he turned to look at Draco, “Draco and I have been working together for months on the Imperius attack case.”  
Aviary looked at them both in shock, “Why? That’s not either of your jobs.”  
“I’ll explain,” Draco cut in before Harry could speak, “I’ve been working on an investigative paper for the prophet on the organization Kareach. I have believed for years that Kareach is a real threat to the wizarding world. I ended up talking Harry about it after the Prophet told me not to research the topic any longer, and we decided to work on it together.”  
“But you quit your job as an Auror,” Aviary remarked.  
“I know I did. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to be a part of this investigation. That and my position as an aspiring Healer would make me useful to Draco,” Harry said.  
“For the record,” Draco put in, “I didn’t ask him to help. He was willing to put himself in danger.”  
Aviary turned to Harry, “So this is why you were so upset the night we told you Kareach wasn’t real?”  
Harry nodded, “Yes. And we need you to believe that what is going on is more than just Ida, Aviary.”  
“Ida?” Draco gasped, moving abruptly from his place on the wall, “What do you mean, Ida?”  
“Harry!” Aviary hissed.  
“We can trust him! Draco found out what poison the attackers are using,” Harry justified.  
“What!” Aviary shouted as Draco said, “Never mind that! What the hell happened today!”  
Harry held up his hand to silence both of them, “Aviary,” he began, “We know the poison, but it is irrelevant right now. We can talk about it more after I catch Draco up. Draco,” he turned to Draco, looking in the piercing grey eyes, “I have a lot to explain.”  
Aviary and Draco remained silent as Harry told Draco what happened to Remmins. After he finished, Aviary was sitting silently, staring absently at the wall. He waited for Draco to say something.  
“That makes perfect sense!” Draco exclaimed.  
That was about the last thing Harry had thought he would say, “How could any of that had made sense? We trusted Ida! She is one of the last people I would have suspected to be in Kareach!”  
“That’s why I was calling you earlier, before you grabbed me and took me to the dirty house of my ancestors,” Draco explained, “I found out something more about the case!”  
Harry tried to hide his surprise at the fact Draco had still wanted Harry to be kept up to date on things that happened with the case. He had thought Draco would permanently cut him out of the investigation after their fight.   
Draco must have realized what he was thinking again, because he said softly, “You’re the only one I can talk about this stuff still,” he continued, more animate now, “Anyway, I was able to trace a package of Chann that was sent to the Puddlemere team!”  
“What?” Both Harry and Aviary shouted, breaking her silence.   
“Is Chann the poison?” Aviary asked. Harry could tell that despite how terrible she was feeling about everything, her Auror reflexes were taking over. She needed to know the truth.  
“Yes,” Draco answered, “Multiple large boxes were sent there. My guess is that they were disguised as quidditch equipment.”  
“Of course!” Harry exclaimed, “Angelina said she was always confused about how Reyes seemed to buy so much stuff for the team and yet they were still short on basic things, like spare clothes, at practices!”  
“It’s because it wasn’t for quidditch,” Draco declared, “Reyes was shipping Chann to himself! Being a well-renowned quidditch coach of one of the most popular teams in the world is a perfect way to disguise the fact you are destroying the lives of muggles and muggleborns. He and Ida must have been working together for years!”  
“A family operation! Of course!” Aviary shouted, anger now taking over her timid silence, “They took two jobs they knew wouldn’t associate them or their family with bigotry, and they hid! For years,” She looked from Draco to Harry, “You two could be right. This has to be much more than just Ida and her cousin. How else would she have pulled all of this off without blowing her cover as an Auror? I cannot believe her! Pretending to care and then going to plan new attacks!”  
Aviary slammed her fist into the floor. Harry watched as he knuckles began to bleed, but she didn’t seem to notice or care. She continued to pummel the floor, tears coming fast and hard to her eyes. Harry sat back in shock, his own grief and anger over Ida overtaking him. He watched absently as Draco moved across the floor and gently pulled on Aviary’s arm. She stopped trying to smash a hole through the floor and turned to look at him. She then threw her arms around Draco, who held her as she cried and cried into his shoulder. Harry watched in amazement as Draco comforted someone he hardly knew as she cried over the murder of her boyfriend and the betrayal of one of her closest friends. His heart surged for Draco, which was a completely unhelpful thing at the moment.  
When Aviary finally pulled back, Harry moved forward, his shoulder brushing Draco’s arm as he gently repaired her knuckles, soaking up the blood and re-correcting one of her fingers, which had been bent at an odd angle.   
He pats her on the arm, perfectly aware this is a lame gesture after the hug Draco gave her, and then pulls back to look at her. She straightens up and looks at both of them in turn.  
“Thank you for letting me cry,” she said, her voice soft and rough.  
“Aviary, if anyone deserves to cry, it’s you. That bullshit they teach us in Auror training about hiding our feelings until a case is completely solved? It’s ridiculous. The only way to process this is head on,” Harry told her.  
“Absolutely,” Draco said from her other side, “She was your partner. You deserve to deal with this betrayal in any way you need to.”  
With those words, Harry realized Draco had no idea that what Aviary was most upset about wasn’t Ida, but the loss of Gani.  
“Draco,” Harry whispered to him, “Remmins was Aviary’s boyfriend.”  
Draco raised his eyebrows and turned back to Aviary. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then stopped. Just like Harry, he seemed to be at a loss of what to say. When he did finally speak, it was with a deliberation that could only come from Draco.  
“Aviary,” he began, “I know we hardly know each other. But I couldn’t begin to imagine what you are going through. If I were to lose… someone that close to me, I would hardly be handling it as well as you are. All we can do is promise you we will avenge his death. I promise you.”  
Harry watched as Aviary, still teary-eyed, locked eyes with Draco and nodded. Harry tried to focus on this solely and not the fact Draco had hesitated when talking about someone he would be devastated to lose.   
No. Those thoughts were detrimental right now. He couldn’t waste time wondering if any part of Draco still wanted to be with him. He couldn't even waste time thinking about what all of this meant for their friendship moving forward. What mattered now was protecting Aviary and aiding in stopping Ida and Aries and whoever else was working with them in any way they could.   
“I promise you too,” he said strongly, “We will put an end to this.”  
“Then we need a plan,” Draco said, standing up off the ground, “And lucky for you two, I excel with those.”  
“He does,” Harry agreed, standing up as well. Aviary joined him a moment later.  
“Where’s the nearest fireplace here?” Draco asked.  
\---  
Draco and Aviary followed Harry down the stairs to the large living room right off of the kitchen. The room, like everywhere else in the house, was covered in a nice coating of dust. Despite the multiple renovations they had done in the house, this room still had peeling walls and floors as well as furniture that hadn’t been considered in style since long before they were born. It was hauntingly like being back in Malfoy manor all those years ago. Harry could tell Draco was majorly uncomfortable with being in this room.  
“First of all,” Draco held out his wand. Harry watched as he began pointing it around the room, getting rid of the grime that covered every surface until the room shone.  
“I don’t have time to make us a more comfortable arrangement, so this should do,” Draco noted as he walked towards the fireplace and knelt in front of it.  
Aviary looked as if she was tempted to laugh, which definitely raised Harry’s spirits. Being fussy about the room they were about to figure out a plan to take down a bunch of murders in was such a Draco move that things almost felt normal. Harry supposed Draco was doing it on purpose, if only to give Harry and Aviary a small laugh for a moment.   
“What’s your plan?” Harry asked as he and Aviary walked to sit besides Draco.  
“Think about it,” Draco said, turning to face the two of them, “What is a group of purebloods greatest weakness? The fact that they constantly underestimate muggle inventions and ideas. People like this believe that muggles are so far beneath them that anything they think up is useless and pales in comparison to what magic can do. What we need is a way to hear what Ida is saying when she is with her fellow Kareach members, and I think I know how to do just that.”  
Harry’s eyes lit up, “You are going to bug her!”  
Aviary gasped, “Draco, that’s genius! She would never think of that… I doubt she’s even heard of that type of technology!”  
“Just one problem,” Harry brought up, “How do we ensure that we can overhear Ida talking about her next move? After all that has happened, it would look too suspicious if Ida left the Ministry for anything other than an Auror dictated investigation.”  
“I know,” Draco said, “We need to figure that out before I call Padma.”  
“Call Padma?” Harry wondered.  
“To tell her to place the bug,” Draco answered simply, “I gave her multiple ones weeks ago. If I have Aurors on the inside, I might as well give them all the tools I can.”  
“I’m impressed,” Harry admitted.  
“Why didn’t you two work with me?” Aviary asked, “I would have gladly bugged someone!”  
“Aviary, it was never personal,” Harry explained, “We didn’t want to involve any Aurors, really, because we thought it would be too risky. We only involved Ron and Padma because we needed to.”  
“Ida is the exact reason we couldn’t tell too many Aurors,” Draco added, “Although we never imagined you or her would be involved in Kareach.”  
“Well, then it’s good you didn’t tell me,” Aviary shuddered, “Just imagine what would have happened if you told Ida and I?”   
“Exactly,” Harry said, “We didn’t know who was involved or who information could be spread to unwittingly.”  
“Wait…” Draco’s eyes lit up, “That’s it!”  
“What’s it?” Harry tried to figure out what he could have said that had given Draco an idea.  
“We didn’t know who information was being spread to before, but now we do! We know Ida and Aries are working together. All we need to do is find a way for Ida to have to go to Aries. Once she has a reason to talk to her cousin, she’ll want to talk to him about everything that has happened,” Draco explained.  
“So?...” Harry asked.  
“Here’s the plan,” Draco began.  
\----  
“It’s a good plan, Harry,” Aviary reassured. She was sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room. Draco was perched elegantly on the edge of it. Both of them were waiting for Harry to make a firecall as he sat with a handful of floo powder in his hand.  
“Of course it is,” Draco huffed, “I came up with it.”  
“Not all of it!” Aviary countered, swatting his arm, “You hadn’t even heard of bug bombs before I brought them up!”  
“I’m starting to see why she was in Slytherin,” Draco muttered. Looking back over at Harry, he said gently, “It’s now or never, Harry.”  
Harry nodded and turned to look into the flames. The three of them had spent the past twenty minutes speedily coming up with a plan to figure out Kareach’s next action. It began with Harry calling Brayan’s office.  
“What if she’s in there?” Harry said nervously, “I don’t think I can face her. I really don’t.”  
“Well, you have no choice,” Draco said evenly, “I know it’s awful, but this is the plan.”  
Harry nodded. He knew better than to argue over a plan with Draco.  
“If I can be in the same room as you firecall the Ministry, then you can,” Aviary told him.  
“You’re right,” Harry took a large breath and turned away from his friends to face the fireplace once again, “Ministry of Magic, Brutus Savant’s office!”  
Harry placed his face in the center of the flames but felt no heat. The bright red of the fire blazing around him disappeared and reformed to the inside of his former boss’s office.  
Harry felt a blaze of rage as hot as the flames build up inside him. Ida was sitting across from Savant, talking urgently with her boss. Harry had known that Ida being in the office was a strong possibility, but he still wasn’t prepared to see her sitting there, so at ease, acting as if she was legitimately concerned about saving the lives of innocent muggleborns. He couldn’t hear what they were saying; a charm was put on the fireplace that prevented any caller from hearing what they were saying until a person in the room lifted the charm. Everything in Harry was telling him not to break the charm. He wanted to back away and never see Ida ever again. Her betrayal felt like a fresh wound. He couldn’t believe that this kind and fiercely determined woman, who wove her hair in elaborate braids and liked to go to the pub with Harry as a post-Christmas tradition, was the same person who killed dozens of innocent people. For a moment, Harry considered the possibility that Aviary was mistaken. But then he remembered the steely sureness of her voice, the pure hatred and disappointment Aviary now held for someone she considered a great friend. Ida was guilty. Harry would have to deal with his anger and damaged emotional stability later.  
“Sir?” Harry asked, loudly and firmly enough to catch Savant’s attention.  
Ida and Savant stopped talking and turned their heads to look at the fireplace. Savant’s eyes widened in surprise as he waved his wand to remove the charm.  
“Harry, my dear boy! What brings you to my fireplace in this time of crisis?” Savant addressed him heartily.  
It took all of Harry’s energy to muster a concerned expression, “I come with some difficult news. A little while ago, I found Aviary outside my doorstep, passed out on my front porch.”  
“Oh no!” Ida exclaimed, “Is she alright? We have a couple lower-level Aurors searching for her but they hadn’t found anything!”  
Harry tried not to cringe at the fake concern. Clearly, Ida didn’t care at all about what happened to her partner.   
“She will be fine, thankfully,” Harry said, trying desperately to sound reassuring, “But she is extremely knackered. She must have gone to a pub after the news about Remmins began too much and drank until herself away. I don’t even know how she managed to get to my house.”  
“Our poor girl!” Savant spoke, “She needs to get her rest. Thanks for letting us know her whereabouts, Potter.”  
Harry was glad he wasn’t upset that Aviary was allegedly wasted on his couch instead of at work. Her boyfriend was murdered earlier in the day, so Harry could only assume anyone with a shred of humanity would cut her some slack.  
“Yes, thank you, Harry,” Ida said. She stood up to move closer to the fire, “Let her know as soon as she wakes up how sorry I am. I haven’t gotten a proper chance to comfort her, not with everything that’s been going on. I need her to know I’m thinking about her and sending her love. I know how much Gani meant to her.”  
“Of course,” Harry gritted out. He hoped the fakeness in his voice covered up his internal rage.   
Harry said goodbyes to the both of them and shifted his knees to begin to move out of the fireplace when Savant spoke again,   
“Wait, Potter,” he hesitated as Ida looked at him concernedly, then continued, “Dover deserves to know about what happened with the investigation.”  
“Sir,” Ida said abruptly, “Harry’s not an Auror anymore…”  
“I do not care at the moment, Ida. I am the head Auror, let me make the decision,” Savant’s voice was soft but firm as he addressed Ida. Turning back to face the fireplace, he said, “Potter, Brayan’s confession was thrown out. He was found to indeed be under the Imperius curse. Remmins was right. He used his dying breath to state what he thought to be the truth, and he was right.”  
Harry stole a quick glance at Ida to find her shift awkwardly. It was small, something no one would have thought of as strange, but Harry knew. Part of her plan had backfired, and that brought a small shred of comfort to Harry in the moment.   
“I’m glad to hear it, sir,” Harry said, “I’ll let Aviary know when she’s ready.”  
“Thank you, Potter,” Savant responded, “Take care.”  
Harry said goodbye again and backed out of the fire. He sat staring at the flames, listening to Aviary and Draco approaching from the side.  
“Great work, Harry,” Draco said gently.  
“Ida was there?” Aviary asked bitterly.  
“Yep. Just sitting there like she owned the fucking place,” Harry spat.  
“Not for long,” Draco declared, “Now that Savant and Ida think Aviary is passed out at Harry’s house, with Ginny to cover for us if anyone shows up there, we can rest assured that Aviary will be safe.”  
“I’m still worried about her showing up at our house,” Harry murmured, “She’s a monster. I know Ginny and the kids are purebloods, but what if she decides to kill them anyway?”  
“I know, Harry,” Draco said, “Aviary and I figured that out.”  
“You did?” Harry asked hopefully.  
“Yep,” Aviary said, almost cheerily, “The kids are at Ron’s parents’ house for the rest of the night. And Draco sent Blaise and Pansy over to your house to stay with Ginny. Not that she can’t handle herself, but it’s better to have numbers if things get ugly.”  
“You sent my ex-wife’s new boyfriend to her house?” Harry asked, “I could laugh if this situation wasn’t so dire.”  
“No,” Draco answered pointedly, “I sent my best friend and the man you accused of genocide to your house to keep your ex-wife company.”  
“Never mind,” Harry muttered. He turned back to the fireplace, deciding not to push the topic any further.  
Throwing more floo powder in, he announced his next location( “Ministry of Magic, Ron and Padma’s office”) before sticking his head back in the fire.  
Moments later, two desks appeared in front of him. Ron was nowhere to be seen, but Padma was sitting at hers, scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment.  
“Padma!” Harry called.  
She looked up, not at all alarmed as she spotted Harry and pointed her wand to remove the charm. He watched as she walked over and knelt down beside him, her long black hair framing her face in ragged strands. Harry couldn’t imagine how long it had been since she had left the office.  
“Is Aviary okay?” she asked immediately.  
“Yes,” Harry reassured, “I’m guessing Ron caught you up on everything?”  
“Yes, he did,” she whispered, her voice taking on a dangerous tone Harry had only heard her use with criminals, “I have never felt so… violated in my entire life! I trusted her! She was one of my closest friends! I can’t even imagine how Aviary is feeling right now.”  
“She’s miserable, but she is one of the strongest people I have ever met, so she is holding it together enough to help out in any way she can,” Harry told her.  
“That girl is a fucking miracle,” Padma declared.  
“Listen, Padma,” Harry said, “Draco, Aviary and I came up with a plan to find out what Ida and Aries’s next plan is.”  
“Aries?” Padma said, “What does he have to do with this?”  
“Draco traced the poison to the Puddlemere team. Aries is the one who orders in things for the team, so it has to be him. We believe the two are working together,” Harry explained.  
If this were a couple weeks ago, Padma would have aired her doubts with Harry over a theory without any Auror found evidence to back it. But she didn't even bat an eye as she said, “Okay. What do I do?”  
“Plant the bug Draco gave you on her. We have a plan to get her to Aries, where they will hopefully talk about their next plan. All we need is a way to listen in on the conversation without her realizing.”  
Padma nodded, “Leave it to me. I’ll get the bug on her straight away.”  
A knock sounded on Padma’s door.  
“Padma?” Ida’s voice floated in from the hall.  
Padma sent a glare at the door as she moved back to her desk, “Come in!”  
Harry pulled away from the fireplace just in time. Aviary and Draco were watching him expectantly.  
“Well?” Aviary asked.  
“She’s going to plant to bug,” Harry said, “And Ida is in her office right now, so she should easily have her chance.”  
“Neither of them are big touchers, though,” Aviary pointed out, “Actually, they kind of both hate most contact in general.”  
“She’ll find a way, Av,” Harry reassured, “Padma won’t let her fear of human contact stop her from taking down someone who wronged her.”  
“Alright,” Draco said. He reached for his coat that was now resting across the armchair, “I’ll be off.”  
“Be careful!” Harry said as Draco headed towards the front hall.  
The third part of the plan was for Draco to go to the Puddlemere field and set out bug bombs in the stadium. It was the perfect plan to get Aries to the field: as the owner of the team and stadium, he would have to go and deal with the heavy amounts of smoke the bombs would release. The bombs wouldn’t do any damage, so it would take hardly any time for the smoke to be cleared. However, the release of the bombs would raise suspicion, especially right now, as the attack on the quidditch pitch was only mere weeks ago. At least one Auror would need to be sent down there to help clear up the pitch and inspect the damage, and Harry would bet anything that Ida would volunteer, out of suspicion and the fact it would give her a chance to talk to Aries in private. No, the plan wasn’t foolproof, but it set up the perfect way for Padma to hear a conversation between Ida and Aries.  
“Hey,” Aviary moved so she was standing right beside Harry, “He’s going to be okay. He’s just releasing bug bombs. It’s not like much will happen to him if he’s caught.”  
“Much could happen to him if Aries is already there,” Harry said, his voice rising unhelpfully, “What if…”  
“No,” Aviary said firmly, holding onto Harry’s arm, “We can’t think like that. Not now. Draco knows what he is doing. I have the feeling he always does. He will be fine.”  
Harry sighed and sat down in the vacated armchair, “You shouldn’t be comforting me, Aviary. It should be the other way around.”  
“Fuck that, Harry,” Aviary said, sitting down beside him. Harry looked at her in surprise. He had never heard her talk like that, “Be upset all you want. The man you like is continually putting himself in danger. I can relate.”  
Her voice cracked at these last words, but she didn’t cry.  
“How could you tell?” Harry whispered.  
“It’s obvious, Harry,” she whispered back, “And he likes you too. He would deny it, but he spent the entirety of the time you were in the fire staring at your arse.”  
Harry let out a laugh; the first real one he had given in days, “Are you sure it wasn’t you staring at my arse?”  
Aviary shoved him, “Don’t flatter yourself, you prat.”  
Harry smiled softly and leaned into Aviary. She didn’t hesitate to lean her head on top of his.  
“I guess now we wait,” Harry murmured.  
“Now we wait,” she whispered.


	13. Chapter 13

“So?” Harry asked anxiously. Draco had arrived in the living room of Grimmauld place moments ago holding an empty grocery bag.  
Draco moved his head to the side to swing his hair out of his eyes, “A success. My guess is Aries is already there. If this works out the way we think it will, Ida should be at the pitch any minute now.”  
“Fantastic!” Harry said. He grinned at Aviary, who gave him a half smile as she hugged him. Harry turned, about to give Draco a hug, when it dawned on him he wasn’t really in a position to do that. Instead, he sat back down on the couch.  
The three of them sat in silence, not knowing quite what to say. They had all focused on making sure this part of the plan went smoothly that they forgot the hardest part was actually waiting to hear what information they would learn from the bug. Harry supposed he could think of it as an opportunity to have intel on the attacks he had been helping work to stop for months and months, but it felt more like waiting for disaster to strike. What if they were too late? What if something was already happening, something they weren’t aware of? What if Ida had already given a message to her fellow Kareach members?  
Aviary must have noticed his apprehension, because she placed her hand on his arm in a gesture of comfort. Harry glanced over at Draco, who was sitting in the armchair once again, looking down at the ground in complete stillness. Harry felt a sudden need to go over and wrap his arms around him and tell him everything was going to be alright, but there was no way in hell that was happening. After all they had said to each the past couple weeks, Harry doubted they would ever be in that place again. Draco had made it clear they weren’t capable of making a legitimate relationship work. It was time for Harry to realize that they would never be more than friends.   
The minutes seem to last longer as they waited for any word from Padma. After about forty minutes of hearing nothing, Draco stood up and began to pace the room.  
“This can’t be a good sign, right?” Draco said, “Surely Padma would know something by now?”  
“Who knows?” Aviary looked away from the window she had been staring out for about twenty minutes, “Ida could have gone with another Auror. It could have taken her awhile to be able to speak alone with Aries alone. And the Ministry is a hell hole right now. Padma could just not have time to go to her office and send us a message.”  
“But this is crucial,” Draco insisted, “She would have found a way to let us know straight away, so we can get there as soon as possible.”  
“Get where? ” Aviary asked.  
“I don’t know!” Draco huffed, “Wherever Ida and the rest of Kareach decide to strike next!”  
“Why would you need to be there?” Aviary asked.  
“What do you mean? To fight! To help revive victims!” Draco said, his tone condescending, “Hardly any of the victims would have survived last time if it wasn’t for Harry and I.”  
“He’s right,” Harry agreed, “We are going. I’m sure Ron and Padma will feel the same way.”  
“No!” Aviary argued, “I’m sure the Aurors can handle it. Draco, Harry was just talking about how you two believe Kareach has been targeting you the past couple attacks! You can’t just willingly go into that!”  
“So you think Kareach is real?” Harry asked, interest peaked.  
“Yes! No! I don’t know!” Aviary flustered, “But clearly this is much bigger than we ever thought.”  
“Exactly!” Harry exclaimed, “That’s why you need us! Voldemort wasn’t fought by just Aurors, now was he!”  
“No, of course not,” Aviary sighed, “It’s just terrifying. I know I don’t know either of you very well, but I can’t stand the thought of losing anyone else. I mean, Gani was an Auror, and he died!”   
Her voice cracked as she fell onto the couch.  
“Aviary,” Harry said softly, sitting down beside her, “We can’t promise that no one else will die from these attacks. But we can promise to put our everything into this. This is so much bigger than all of us. Draco and I…” he looked up at Draco as he spoke, “Both of us are terrified of this type of risk. I mean, we have kids, friends and families to go back to. But so do all the victims who have passed or had their reproduction stunted. They deserve to have as much support as possible.”  
Aviary nodded. Something flashed in her eyes: determination, resilience, injustice. She was ready to fight.  
“Then it’s settled,” she stated, “We are all going.”  
“What?” Harry said as he and Draco exchanged looks.  
“Aviary…” Draco began.  
“Don’t you dare start,” Aviary threatened, “I don’t fucking care if I’m in danger. It sounds like Draco is in just as much danger as me, and he’s still going. I am doing this for Gani. I appreciate you taking me here, Harry, I really do. But I need to be there, wherever there is. I need to fight for him.”  
Harry wanted to protest, but he found himself at a loss for words. It reminded him of his reason for fighting as hard as he did, all those years ago. He needed to avenge the ones he had loss and fight for a better life for the ones he still had.   
“Harry!” Padma’s cry seemed to echo throughout the room. The three of them whipped around to see Padma’s face framed in the flames of their fireplace.   
They all rushed towards the fireplace, coming to a stop on their knees.   
Padma wasted no time, “The bug, it worked. Ida and the entirety of Kareach are coming to the Ministry in less than an hour! Meet Ron at the phone booth as soon as possible.”  
With that, she backed out of the fireplace, leaving the room in stunned silence.   
It took only a moment before the three of them moved into action, grabbing their things and moving swiftly towards the door. Once outside, the three of them apparated without speaking, appearing a moment later in front of the phone booth.   
Just as Remmins had been waiting mere hours before, Ron was standing in front of the phone booth. When he saw the three of them approaching, he rushed towards them.  
“I’m here to get you in. But before we do anything, you all need to know the plan,” Ron’s words tumbled over one another as he spoke.  
“Slow down,” Harry said desperately .  
Ron took a deep breath, “Alright. The plan is to evacuate the entire building before Kareach gets here. Padma and Savant are with Ida in Savant’s office right now. They cast a bunch of charms that prevent her from leaving or contacting anyone from within the room. That shouldn’t hold her permanently, but as of right now she suspects nothing, so we should have some time. As they work in there, the rest of the Aurors and you all can help get anyone who is left in the building out safely.”  
“Why is Kareach planning an attack now?” Draco asked, “Not many people besides the Aurors are left in the building, right?”  
“Actually, there are more than you think, but you’re right. It’s not a good time for an attack. From what we were able to overhear, it sounds as if this attack is much less about poisoning and more about taking control of the Ministry,” Ron explained.  
“But that undermines their entire foundation,” Draco argued, “They’ve remained a rumor for so long because they never cast suspicion of otherwise publicly.”  
“They believe they are strong enough to take over,” Ron said, his voice still firm but a small sense of uncertainty peeking through. He was putting up a confident front, but Harry knew him well enough to know he was terrified.  
“Then let’s move,” Aviary said urgently, gesturing towards the phone booth.  
“Yes,” Ron said, making his way over to the phone booth, “Follow me.”  
\---  
“I just don’t understand why I have to leave!” Rachel insisted, “I’m a part of the Auror’s office!”  
“Rachel,” Harry hesitated. He felt bad telling this girl, who was looking at him with a passion that reminded him of himself at her age, that she couldn’t stay and fight because she was Brayan’s assistant, not an actual Auror. He wasn’t either, so it felt rather pointless to stay.  
“I’ve been instructed to have all Aurors leave the building, Ms. Bloom,” Harry said, as professionally as he could, “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any authority to go against direct instructions from the Aurors.”  
Rachel nodded. She walked towards one of the fireplaces used to leave the Ministry, then turned around, “You better make these fuckers pay, Potter.”  
“Oh, we plan to,” a voice said from behind him. Harry glanced back to see Draco, who must have just finished evacuating a group of Ministry officials.  
Rachel gave them one last look, then walked into the fire. Harry turned to Draco:  
“I feel bad telling her to leave. Shouldn’t anyone who wants to fight be here?” Harry questioned.  
“Yes. I even told Ron that, but he seemed to think assembling a makeshift Order of the Phoenix was not what we needed at the moment. He told me to stick to the plan and not put anymore people into danger,” Draco said sullenly.   
“Well, we don’t really have time to argue, now do we?” Harry, slightly more bitterly than he had planned, “Let’s go help clear Level One.”  
Without another word, Draco and Harry made their way side by side to the lift. When they reached it, Harry pressed the button and waited for the doors to open. They shot open only moments later, but not to an empty lift. Ron was standing in the lift with a group of people. He instructed them to leave, then turned frantically to Harry and Draco.  
“Ida realized what’s going on,” Ron declared.  
“Are Padma and Savant alright?” Harry asked.  
“Yes. They managed to leave the room before she could hurt them. By them leaving, however, it dramatically weakened the charms when they tried to reinstate them. She’s now trying to get out of the room, and by the sound of it, she’ll be out any minute. And once she does…” Ron trailed off.  
“She can contact Kareach,” Draco finished.  
Ron nodded, “We need to get ready. You two finish evacuating the first floor.”  
Harry and Draco moved towards the lift. They waited in tense silence for the lift to reach the first floor.  
“What if…” Draco started.  
“No. None of that. This is going to work,” Harry attested.  
Draco closed his mouth and stared at Harry. Then, before Harry could fully process the situation, he placed his hands on the back of Harry’s neck and pulled him in close.  
Everything Harry had been feeling for the past hours washed away as he kissed Draco back, not realizing how desperately he still needed this. Needed to feel whole and secure, if only for a moment. Harry wanted to feel all of Draco, against him until the end of time. He pulled on the strands of hair on the back of Draco’s neck to pull him closer. He wanted no space between them. He wanted this feeling to never stop.  
Too soon, Draco pulled away, his face blossoming with red and his eyes filled with heavy lust. Harry tried to ignore the fire in his skin as he straightened his shirt and stared ahead.   
“Not gonna say anything? That’s a new development?” Draco’s voice was light, but his tone was dark.  
Harry couldn’t believe he was saying this, but the words were rising before he could stop them, “Glad to know I’m only worth kissing when you’re in a moment of crisis. I’m not some fucking security blanket, Malfoy.”  
With those words ringing throughout the small lift, the doors opened and Harry and Draco rushed into the hall, yelling for people to follow them out. Harry’s desire and anger faded away as he redirected his attention to getting people to safety. Once he and Draco had delivered the entirety of the first floor (except for Kingsley, the Minister of Magic) to the Great Hall safely, they made their way back towards the lift to head to the second floor.  
They remained silent on the ride to the second floor. Harry was out of the lift as soon as the doors opened, Draco closely behind him as they made their way over to the group of Aurors surrounding Savant’s office.  
“Ron?” Harry asked, “What’s going on?”  
Ron turned to face them, “We don’t know. Ida has been quiet for minutes. We have no idea what she could be doing,” he shuddered before continuing, “Is everyone out safely?”  
Both Draco and Harry nodded. Harry opened his mouth to ask another question, when a loud bang sounded behind them. All the Aurors, Draco and Harry whipped around to face the lift with their wands pointed.  
Where the lift had once been was a thick cloud of grey smoke. It began to fill the room, darkening Harry’s vision and making it hard for him to see what was going on. He struggled to move forward, but soon he could hardly see two feet ahead of him. Panic seized him as he thought of what could be happening to those around him as shrieks filled the air. Harry was about to fall to the floor in an attempt to protect himself and get to the lift when Draco shouted from nearby:  
“Cast ‘Protego Maxima’!”   
Moments later, the room filled with loud shouts of ‘Protego Maxima!’ as Auror after Auror cast the charm. A bright barrier was soon created around the Aurors. Their wands were connected by streaming beams of light, forming a dome of invincibility. The light from the protective bubble illuminated the room enough for Harry to see the large group of Aurors once again, holding their wands up as if one.  
Curses bounced off the shield from left and right. To Harry’s surprise, none of them were the bright green of the killing curse. Kareach wasn’t aiming to kill today. They couldn’t risk spilling any pureblood blood. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t if they had to. Any of the Aurors were fair game.  
Soon the room cleared out enough for Harry to make out the outlines of person after person standing directly in front of the shield they had created. They formed a large and intimidating mass of black. As more and more figures arrived via the lift, it began to fully dawn on Harry how many people they would be facing. He had never envisioned a group as large of this. Harry looked desperately towards Draco, attempting to silently ask him how to break the shield and fight without giving Kareach a readily available way for them to shoot curses at the Aurors. They couldn’t remain in a bubble while Kareach walked freely in the department hallways. This was decided for him, however, when the office door swung open behind him.  
Ida appeared on the other side of their shield, blocked from her fellow Kareach members.   
“I told you the smoke was pointless, now didn’t I?” Ida’s voice was so casual, as if she knew she knew she had the upper hand. Harry’s blood boiled at the mere sight of her.  
Aviary must have felt the same way. From a couple of people over, Harry saw her break her place in the shield and shoot an unexpected stupefy.  
Harry couldn’t see if the spell hit Ida, as the room divulged into chaos. The protego charm splintered apart as Auror after Auror sent spells at Kareach members. Harry broke his own charm and looked widely around him. He was almost immediately confronted by a large figure in the same black mask he had witnessed weeks ago at the hospital attack. He quickly dodged a spell shot his way. Thankful he had years of Auror training, he impulsively cast an expelliarmus. The wand flew from the man’s hand and towards Harry, who caught it and dove behind another Kareach member.  
“Throw it here, Potter!”  
Harry looked up through the flashes of light to see an Auror waving his empty hands at him. Assuming he had lost his own wand, Harry tossed the wand through the air. The Auror reached out to grab it, but was intercepted by another Kareach member, who grabbed it and whipped around to cast a crucio on the Auror.   
Harry wasted no time. As the defenseless Auror squirmed with pain on the ground, he jumped on the back of the Kareach member, who thankfully wasn’t very large, and managed to push them to the ground. The Auror who had been tortured grabbed the wand that had rolled out of the Kareach member’s hand and used it to fire a spell at another Kareach member approaching from behind.   
Realizing he was still on top of someone, he cast a Petrificus Totalus at the struggling figure below him and jumped up off of him. He looked around to see what was going on: he could easily see that the Kareach members outnumbered the Aurors. The space wasn’t nearly large enough to occupy this many people, battling each other. His heart dropped when he noticed several Aurors collapsed on the floor. Praying that they were still alive, he moved to shoot a spell at a Kareach member Ron was battling. He used a leg locker curse, which caught the figure off guard and caused them to fall to the ground. Ron sent him an appreciative look and sent a curse at a Kareach member who was dueling with Padma.  
“Expelliarmus!'' The spell caught Harry off guard as it hit him from the side. He turned around quickly to see Ida. She held his wand in her hand, a smile forming across her face. His anger drowned out the rest of the noise around him. Thinking of nothing but revenge, he lunged at Ida.   
After landing on Ida, he felt the familiar sensation of the world disintegrating around him and his body feeling as if what people squeezed into an infinitesimally small space. He realized, with growing panic, that Ida had apparated as soon as Harry touched her.   
All he could see was white before a sharp pain reverberated throughout his body. Despite his desperation to stay conscious, he could feel his mind easing away from him...  
\---

Harry opened his eyes, his vision blurred as he tried to figure out where he was. He realized he was lying down on something hard, but he couldn’t place where. The room was so bright, he had trouble focusing on anything other than the lights overhead. Harry attempted to move his arms to try and lever himself off the ground, but to his shock, he had no control over his own body. It dawned on him that his whole body was immobile, which could only be the work of a Petrificus Totalus charm. Despite this, he continued to try and move but nothing happened. He was stuck on the ground, unable to make a sound or figure out his surroundings.  
He tried now to scream to no avail. His voice, like his body, was out of his control. His mind began racing with the possibilities of what could be happening to the Aurors fighting at the Ministry. If he was left like this, abandoned on an unidentified floor unable to move, he didn’t want to know the fate of anyone else who had been fighting.   
Maybe if he concentrated hard enough, he could overcome the charm. At one point he was successfully capable of fighting off the Imperius curse. Petrificus Totalus couldn’t be that much different. He focused on the counter curse, trying to do magic without his wand being anywhere in sight.  
Suddenly, Harry could feel himself moving upwards to a standing position. Relief surged through him, believing he had done this himself. But as his back came into contact with another hard surface, he realized someone had merely moved him into a standing position. He was finally able to make out more of the room than the blinding overhead lights. The room was barren, painted completely white. The only other thing in the room Harry could see was a long black board, propped up across from him. It was beginning to resonate in Harry how royally fucked he truly was.   
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a flash of black. Someone was moving behind him. A moment later, the black silhouette began moving forward. From the back, he recognized the completely black clothed figure as a Kareach member. They were still wearing their mask, so as they turned around to face Harry, he couldn’t identify who it was. To his surprise, the figure gave a hearty laugh and bent down to pick up something else from the floor. Harry’s heart sunk when he realized what the figure was picking up.  
Draco was being placed on the board across from him. Harry tried desperately to move, to shout, to do anything, but once again, nothing happened. Draco must have also been hit with the Petrificus Totalus charm, as his arms and legs were pointed stiffly downwards like Harry’s. His face was the worst sight to see. He must have been hit by some sort of gashing spell, because a large chunk of skin was peeled away from his right eye. Blood coated a large portion of his face, covering his nose, mouth, and one of his eyes. Despite all this, his features remained frozen and expressionless. Heat flooded Harry’s body and he focused every ounce of his attention on moving. He needed to fight this curse, get up and take Draco away. Harry was forced to watch helplessly as blood gathered on Draco’s collar, contrasting his soft blue shirt in a stark and heart shattering way.   
His insides were burning with the need to help, to fight this, but none of that mattered. Harry watched, his heart hammering, as the Kareach member turned slowly around to face Harry once again. With excruciating slowness, the figure reached for his mask and revealed his face. Standing before Harry was Aries Reyes.  
“Harry fucking Potter,” he said, shaking his head. He ran a hand through his long, jet (change) black hair and sighed, “It didn’t have to be this way, you know. Fucking half blood,” he turned around to face Draco, “And you! A pureblood! You could have survived nicely in this new order.”  
“It really is a shame,” another voice Harry knew all too well came from somewhere behind slowly. He watched helplessly as Ida Reyes made her way into the room to join her cousin.  
The normalcy of her appearance made the situation worse. She had created a signature crown of braids, that somehow, despite the fact she had just fought the entire Auror department, was still held up pristinely on top of her head. She was still wearing her Auror robes. She looked as if she was heading in for a day at the office.   
“I loved Harry, Ar,” she said, fake regret coursing through her words, “Like a brother. I knew he would never join our ranks, not with his fucked up past, but I never thought it would come to this.”  
She turned to Draco now, “And I am more than disappointed at the actions of this one, pinsan,” she walked towards Draco, “He was raised by a respectable pureblood family who doubt taught him the ideals of a true wizard. But, somehow along the way, he lost sight of this. Probably when he decided he wanted to fuck Harry Potter.”  
She whipped around now to face Harry, her eyes darker than Harry had ever seen them, “Yes, Potter, I know. I know you’ve been in love with Draco. You two created a little investigative team you thought I and my cousin didn’t know anything about. But while you were working hard to contaminate a descendant of one of the only respectable wizarding families left in the world, I was watching your every move. You and Draco are no longer a threat to us.”  
With that, she whipped around and cast a spell straight at Draco’s face. The gash that already occupied most of his face grew to reach around to his other cheek.   
Harry’s whole body seemed to thrive with the effort of trying to fight his non visible constraint. This was the worst form of torture, and he could tell Ida knew that. She knew all along that Harry liked Draco and that they were working together. He had told her he was gay before almost anyone. He had trusted her to understand everything he was going through. And now… now he was watching her torture the man he loved.   
She stopped, thankfully, before the blood could consume Draco’s whole face. Ida turned now to her cousin, a question forming on her dark red lips:  
“Might as well tell them everything, don’t you think?,” she smirked, putting a hand on his shoulder, “It’s only fair to let them know everything, before we kill them? Makes the pain even worse to know the fate of their friends and family, am I right, my dear pinsan?”  
“I couldn’t agree more,” Aries beamed. Harry had never noticed how menacing his smile looked, “Where to begin?”  
“Let’s start with our family,” she said, “One of the oldest pureblood families in the world. By having the fortune of being born into such a prized family, I also gained the right to take over an organization my family has run for generations. My dear ina and ama decided about ten years ago that it was time to pass on Kareach to a new generation. Out of our family, which stretched across continents, Aries and I were clearly the two most viable options. It was decided that I would move to England, assimilate myself into wizarding society, and run the operation with Aries. After the fall of Voldemort, it was up to us to bring to life the ideals that supposedly died with him. Because of us, Kareach as grown to occupy purebloods from all over the world.”  
Harry knew it. All this time, Draco was right. He had been the only one to truly see what Kareach was and the threat it held. Now, because of that, he would pay the price.  
“My mother told me,” Ida continued, “Not to join the muggle-loving Ministry run by one of the greatest blood traitors of our time, Kingsley Shacklebolt. But I knew that being an Auror was a genius position. It was the perfect way to know everything the Ministry suspected. A way to control the attacks we had been planning for years from the inside. To prevent the Ministry from ever suspecting me or any of my family. And it worked. Me, as a respected Auror and Aries as a respected quidditch coach. Two people who were far from likely to be a part of a plan to demolish the muggle race.”  
“And it would have continued to work,” Aries added in, “If it wasn’t for this blood traitor!”   
He fired another spell at Draco. Harry watched as one of the gashes grew deeper, his entire body on fire as anger attempted to burst out of him.  
“Precisely,” Ida spat at Draco’s feet, “Our plan with that fool, Brayan, would have gone smoothly if it weren’t for him.”  
“Could I explain that one?” Aries asked in a lower voice.  
“I’m the one who came up with it!” Ida shot back, “I’ll explain.”  
Raising her voice, she began speaking again to Draco and Harry, “We had the perfect plan. I bet, despite all your digging, you didn’t know what we used to poison all those muggles and muggleborns.”  
Despite how upset Harry was, he couldn’t help feel a surge of pride for Draco. They had been on to Kareach in more ways that Ida was aware.  
“Years ago,” Ida continued haughtily, “Brayan’s father, Gert Foget, found the poison, a rare and popularly unheard of one, in a small city in Cambodia. Once we found out the properties stunted the reproduction of whoever took it,” she emphasized, looking smugly at Harry and Draco in turn, “We knew it was the perfect poison. Kareach has arranged their entire plan to rid the world of muggles around the poison ever since. Ironically, the perfect scapegoat to go down for our crimes was none other than Foget’s son, Darius Brayan. You see, Foget’s wife, Annabelle, was a pureblood just like him. But she, being the filthy blood traitor she was, believed that Foget’s devotion to Kareach was unacceptable. She left Foget and took her son, Darius. She remarried years later to a muggle and told her son, a pureblood, that he was half muggle. While this is all very upsetting, it worked out for us. You see, Brayan has reportedly told everyone he knows that he is a halfblood, when in reality, he is descended from one of the oldest pureblood families in the world, based in Egypt. After being accused, he looked guilty. Pretending he wasn’t a pureblood? Working at the hospital as a cover-up? How could it not be him? This all made his confession that much easier. I’ve gotten so good at the Imperius curse that it was easy to cast the curse on him while my colleagues believed he was on Veritaserum. How fucking Remmins realized he was cursed, I have no idea. But he’s dead now. And soon you two will be.”  
“Then,” Aries chimed in, “We won’t have anything to worry about. The Ministry is collapsing as we speak. There are far too many members of Kareach for the Aurors to fight them off for long. If the Aurors had any sense, they would have recognized our threat years ago.”  
“They would have,” Ida said, “But somehow, somehow, only you two did that. We’ve been planning for months to take out Draco. The main purpose of the hospital attack wasn’t to poison, but to kill Draco!”  
She glared at Harry, “But you. You saved him! That’s when I knew… I had to take down both of you. I tried to prevent it, Harry. I really did. Despite all the lies, I counted you as a true friend. But I should have known I couldn’t trust you. The bloody Chosen One. You’ll have to die, just like the man you love. But don’t worry. I’ll kill him first, just to give you some time to reflect.”  
She turned now towards Draco again. The entire top of his shirt was drenched in blood. Strands of his blond hair were soaked in blood, plastered to his face. Harry was looking at him, alive for the last time. It occurred to him that Draco’s son would never see his father again. He would never see Draco with the smile he reserves for people he really cares about, where his whole face lit up. And Harry’s kids. They would never get another hug from their father. They would never get to hear him say again how much he loves them, how he would do anything for them. Harry would never get to watch them grow up, find love of their own. He would never hear James’s bright laugh, see Albus’s focused expression whenever he worked on something difficult or see Lily’s smile light up a room. But above everything, he would never get to make a new family. One where Draco, Lily, James, Scorpius and Albus all belonged to him. Where they all belonged to each other. It wasn’t until this moment that he realized how badly he wanted that. A future where everything felt right. Instead, he was in a barren room, watching all of that disappear before his eyes.   
Harry watched again as Ida pressed her wound into a gash on Draco’s face. She ran her wand down the length of it, sending even more blood trickling down Draco’s neck and onto his shirt. All Harry could imagine was the internal pain Draco was feeling, all concealed on his unmoving face.   
“Any last words?” Ida asked viciously, as Aries laughed joyfully from behind her.  
“Expelliarmus!” a shout occurred from somewhere behind Harry. He watched, with a renewed hope, as Ida’s wand went flying and ricocheted off one of the walls.  
To his surprise, Seamus dove for the wand and grabbed it off of the ground. Harry had no time to wonder what he was doing there, because Ron, Padma, Neville and Ginny appeared moments later. Ron and Neville both cast a stupefy on Aries, knocking him out cold within seconds. Ginny aimed her wand at Ida, casting a Petrificus Totalus.  
With Ida and Aries now on the ground, Seamus and Ron turned to Draco and Harry respectively to reverse their full-body binding curses.  
“Harry!” Ron caught his friend before he fell to the floor, “Are you alright?”  
But Harry was barely registering Ron. He pulled himself to his feet with some difficulty and then made his way as quickly as he could across the room to Draco’s side. Seamus moved aside to let Harry kneel beside Draco, who was shaking violently from the pain.  
“Seamus!” Harry barked, “Steady him!”  
Without thinking, he began to repair the gashes slowly and with a focus he didn’t know he had in him. All that mattered now was healing the cuts and bruises before any permanent damage was left.  
“Harry?” Draco whimpered, “I…”   
Harry shushed him gently and continued to seal up the large cuts across his face as Seamus held him steady. Once he had healed the gashes the best he could, Harry began to clean the blood from Draco’s head and face. He then did a routine check on Draco. When he was sure Draco would be fine, he pulled back, his heart hammering as he fell into something behind him.  
Arms wrapped around him, “He’s going to be okay, Harry,” Ginny murmured, “We’re all going to be okay.”  
He fell back into her embrace, finally relaxing, “How did you find us?”   
“Draco’s bug,” Ron explained from over Harry’s shoulder, “After the fighting ended, we realized you and Draco were missing. Padma went to her office to trace you. It took some time, but we were eventually able to pick up a signal.”  
“We thought we would be too late,” Neville said quietly.  
“You almost were,” Harry murmured. He looked up at Draco, “Thank goodness you weren’t.”  
As Draco gave him a small smile, Harry wanted nothing more than to crawl over and kiss him senseless. But, his desperate feelings aside, he didn’t think now was the time.  
“What happened?” Draco spoke for the first time, his voice raspy.  
“The Aurors were being overpowered,” Ron said, his voice hard, “You were right, Draco. There were far too many members of Kareach for the Aurors to handle alone.”  
“That’s where I came in,” Padma explained, “I managed to escape through the lift and go down and bring in reinforcements.”  
“I don’t know how she did it,” Ron said, clearly in awe, “Before I knew what was happening, Padma came out of the lift with basically all of our friends and family. Everyone was willing to fight.”  
“Is everyone okay? Where are the kids?” Harry asked urgently.  
Ron hesitated long enough to make Harry’s nerves skyrocket.  
“Who’s hurt? What happened!” Harry jumped up.  
“Well…” Ron began.  
“What?!” he yelled. His mind began racing. Was someone dead?  
“All of our friends and family are fine!” Ron quickly reassured, “All the kids are safely at my mum and dad’s.”  
Relief flooded through him at these words, but Harry knew by Ron’s expression that there was still something he wasn’t telling him.  
“Then what happened?” Harry demanded.   
“Harry,” Padma said softly, kneeling down beside him, “Healer Patrick died tonight.”  
“Healer Patrick? What was she doing there?” Harry exclaimed.  
“She came to help and fight,” Padma explained softly, “Much of Mungos did once I sent the call. Anyone who could came over to the Ministry.”  
“Oh…” Harry said softly. He pictured her rushing through the hallways, doing her job with an urgency and precision most people could only dream of.   
Harry shook his head, tears falling, “This is all my fault.”  
“How in Merlin’s name could that be possible?” Padma asked.  
“I worked with Ida for years and years and I never guessed any of this!” he pulled himself away from Ginny and went to stand over Ida, who was still lying stiff as a board, “I should have known!” he yelled down at her.  
“Harry, you couldn’t have…” Ginny began.  
“Yeah, Harry…” Ron started.  
“No! I could have stopped this years ago if I had just paid attention!” Harry insisted.   
“Harry, you know that’s not true!” Padma said, “We all worked with Ida and none of us had any idea she was anything but an Auror and a friend. We can’t blame ourselves. The only person we can blame is her, for the people she took from us. Current and future.”  
“Yeah, mate,” Ron said gently, “You have no reason to feel responsible.”  
“Ron…” Harry began, but a flash of green halted his words.  
“Avada K…”   
“No!” Draco screamed. The last thing Harry saw as the world went black was Draco diving in front of him.


	14. Chapter 14

“Harry?” A voice whispered.  
“I saw his arm move, mum! He’s alive!”  
“He was always alive, twit.”   
“James, don’t talk to your brother that way!”   
“Daddy!” Lily shouted.  
Harry opened his eyes to the bright lights of a hospital room at St. Mungos. As he gathered his bearings, he saw all three of his kids; Lily grasping his arm beside the bed and Al and James sitting on the end of it. Ginny was right behind Lily, smiling down at him.  
“Daddy!” Lily shrieked again, pulling herself into the bed and falling into his arms.   
Harry grasped onto his daughter. She was okay. He was okay.  
Soon both Albus and James were at his sides, throwing their arms around him just as their sister did. Ginny joined in a moment later, wrapping her arms around all the kids to complete the group hug. Harry lost himself in the warmth of their love, the feeling that he was once again whole.   
After a while of lying like this, Ginny pulled away. Al and James moved to sit on either side of Harry. Lily stayed curled up at his side, a constant reminder that nothing had changed. These kids were still the most important thing in the world to him.  
He was alive; but at what price?  
“Draco!” Harry shouted, a searing pain burning in his stomach as the events of last night resurfaced. Ida screaming, the flash of green light, Draco diving in front of him.  
Harry shot forward and attempted to get out of bed, “Where is he? Don’t tell me… where is he?”  
“Harry,” Ginny gripped his arm, “Draco is fine! I promise.”  
“He is?” Harry asked rather faintly.  
“Yes,” Ginny said gently, “The… er… spell did not hit him.”  
“We heard the nurses talking, mum,” Al said, “We know that Ida tried to kill dad but then Draco tried to save him.”  
“Albus!” Ginny scolded, “I’m not trying to protect you from hearing it!”  
“Aunt Ida tried to kill daddy?” Lily said, her eyes wide as she looked up at her brother in surprise.   
“No sweetie, of course not,” Ginny lied, “Daddy fell, like we talked about.”  
Lily looked between her mother and brother, then shook her head softly, “I believe Al. I never liked Aunt Ida.”  
Ginny looked surprised at her daughter’s deadpan answer.   
“Once again, Lily is smarter than all of us,” James said admiringly.   
“Ginny,” Harry said desperately, “What happened to Draco.”  
“The spell didn’t hit him, Harry,” Ginny explained, “Seamus noticed Ida was going back for her wand…”  
“How?” Harry interrupted, “She was under Petrificus Totalus!”  
“The stupefy wore off at Aries. Don’t ask me how…” Ginny began to answer.  
“I read in training about how stupefy can wear off quickly on people if they grow accustomed to it overtime! That’s something I wouldn’t be surprised if Aries was trained to do from a young age!” Harry exclaimed.  
“Perhaps, Harry,” Ginny said, “Whatever happened, he was conscious enough to reverse Ida’s curse without us noticing. We were all so focused on you and Draco that we weren’t paying attention to Ida and Aries.”  
Harry realized his kids were all listening in stunned silence. He told himself that there was no way they wouldn’t find all of this out eventually, so it wouldn’t hurt for them to hear it now.  
“So how am I alive? How is Draco alive?” Harry asked,   
“Seamus noticed a split second before Ida raised her wand. He grabbed Nev’s wand and cast two stupefys: one for you and one for Draco. You two collapsed just in time to avoid getting hit with the curse, and by that time the rest of us were firing so many curses at Ida and Aries that were knocked out cold within seconds,” Ginny explained.   
“I can't believe it…” Harry said, pulling his daughter close to him in a moment of excitement, “I can’t believe it! I’m okay!”  
“Yes, you are,” Ginny said with a soft smile, “But you did hit your head on one of the boards in the room. The healer told us it’s nothing to worry about, but you have to take it easy until the swelling settles. So no jumping out of this bed and running around with excitement.”  
“And no running into the hallway to snog Draco,” James said cheekily.  
“James!” Ginny exclaimed.  
“What? It’s what he wants to do,” James said defensively.   
“You can snog Mr. Malfoy, daddy, we don’t mind,” Lily said seriously.  
“Wait… hold on. Draco’s in the hallway?” Harry asked.  
“Yes. He wouldn’t leave until he knew you were alright,” James added, “Just do us a favor and wait until we are out of the room to snog him, alright?”  
“James Sirius!” Ginny reprimanded, “What is the matter with you?”  
Harry can’t help it; he began to laugh.  
“Just for your information, James, Mr. Malfoy and I aren’t in a relationship,” he clarified, “But I am thankful for the… support? Reluctant acceptance?”  
“We all like Mr. Malfoy, dad,” Albus piped in, “Rose too. We talked it over, and we think it’s a great idea for you to date him.”  
“Oh really?” Harry asked.  
“Yes,” Albus answered, “He’s nice, he fights bad guys and he has a cool son.”  
“I see you have all been discussing this behind my back?” Harry asked.   
“Of course,” James added, “Sibling meetings, you wouldn’t understand.”  
Ginny laughed, “I’m nervous to ask what you think about Blaise.”  
“Blaise is great!” Al announced, “He’s got a cool job and he’s best friends with Draco.”  
Harry couldn’t believe this. While he was fretting over whether or no Draco liked him or whether them having a relationship was even a good idea, his kids had decided for him that Draco was the right decision. When did his children become so wise, so mature? For goodness sake, Lily was only three, and she was processing a divorce and her parents’ new relationships much better than he was.   
“I’m glad you approve,” Ginny snorted. She sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed, “But even with all this change, I want you to know that both your father and I will always be on the same team. We are both here for you, and we still love each other and you kids with everything we have. Now we’ll just have more people to love you.”  
“Nicely put, Gin,” Harry said softly.  
“We know, mum,” James said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t see that at first.”  
“James,” Ginny touched his arm gently and looked at him, “You have nothing to be sorry for. You actually took this much better than I thought you would,” she looked at Al and Lily, “You all did. Your father and I are beyond lucky to have children as wonderful as you three.”  
“We love you, mommy!” Lily burst.   
Everyone laughed as Ginny pulled them in once again for a group hug. For the first time in months, Harry was starting to truly believe that everything was going to be alright.   
After the hug broke up, Harry whipped away the tears forming in his eyes.  
“Daddy, you don’t need to cry,” Lily said simply, “Everything’s alright.”  
“He’s upset that he’s not dating Draco,” James said brazenly.   
“James,” Harry warned, “You’re starting to push it a bit.”  
“Am I wrong?” James asked, eyebrows raised.  
“Yes!” Harry said, although a small part of him knew there was much truth to what James was saying, “I’m crying because I love you all very much. I’m just… so, so happy that things can go back to normal.”  
“Dad, things won’t be normal,” Al said, “You’re dating Mr. Malfoy.”  
“You are?” a voice said from the doorway.  
All five of them turned to see Draco, standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorway. Despite the attempt at a casual look, Harry knew him far too well to buy into that. Draco looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair had a very Harry-at-Hogwarts-before-he discovered-what-combs-are look and his clothes still sported patches of dirt. Harry knew he must have been worried, because it was not at all like Draco to leave dirt on himself when he was perfectly capable of taking it off with a wave of his wand. His face was mostly healed from where Ida and Aries had carved into it, but large scars still spread across a large portion of his face. They were battle scars, proof of all Draco had done to take down Kareach. Fuck. His kids were right. He was so fucking in love it hurt to look at him.  
He must have stared for far too long, because James whispered loudly to Al, “Should we leave now?”  
“Yes, we should,” Ginny said, lifting Lily into her arms, “Let’s go check on Aunt Lina.”  
“Angelina?” Harry asked, “Is she okay? What happened?”  
“She’s fine,” Ginny reassured, “She was hit by multiple stunning spells last night at the Ministry. Nothing major. She’s been conscious for awhile.”  
Harry sighed in relief, “Thank goodness. Tell her I’ll be down to see her later.”  
“I’ll tell her and everybody else that you are awake and well and that you will not be leaving your hospital room, but anybody who wants to visit can later,” Ginny gave him a stern look and led Al, James and Lily out of the room. James gave Draco a thumbs up as he passed him in the doorway.  
“The sheer nerve of that kid is alarming,” Harry muttered as James closed the door behind him.  
“Well, he is the offspring of Harry Potter,” Draco said, “And if anyone has nerve, it’s you. I’m not saying this as a compliment, though, simply a fact.”  
“No, god forbid,” Harry joked. His voice was light but he doubted Draco couldn’t tell how nervous he was.   
“I have a problem with those things, you see,” Draco said, taking a step closer to the bed.   
“What things?” Harry asked, his pulse increasing unnervingly, as if it was jumping through his skin like electricity.  
“Compliments. Saying what I mean. Feelings,” Draco answered bluntly, “I’ve never been good at any of it.”  
“I think we both know I’m not either,” Harry mumbled.  
“But you weren’t… you…” Draco sighed, “You knew you… liked me. You could tell me straight to my face. I hid behind secret kisses and anger. You, on the other hand, were telling your kids we are dating.”  
“I did not tell them that,” Harry emphasized, “James may have overheard Ginny on the phone with Blaise once talking about how things had… sort of happened between us and he jumped to conclusions.”  
“How did Ginny know?” Draco asked softly.  
“You’re the reason I realized… Ginny and I weren’t good for each other,” he finished nervously, “You made me realize what I had been missing in my life.”  
“Harry,” Draco looked nervous, which Harry hadn’t ever seen, “That’s how I feel. About you. Sitting in the hallway all day gave me time to think. You’re right. Not about everything, but about most of the ridiculous things we’ve fought about. I… I don’t know how to handle feelings. Mainly because I’ve never had real ones,” he paused for a second, then looked slowly into Harry’s eyes, “I don’t want to be a quick fuck or any shit like that. I want to be your boyfriend. For once in my life, you make being in a relationship seem like a fantastic idea. The truth is, I’ve spent so much of my life counting on myself. It’s taken me a long time to learn to trust. So, when I started falling for you, it seemed like a terrible idea. You were married, for fuck’s sake, and you had an entire life that wouldn’t make much sense with me in it. But later, after you and Ginny broke up, it suddenly became a possibility. And that somehow scared me more. The idea of you wanting to be with me seemed insane. I kept telling myself that you didn’t know what you wanted, that I was just someone to experiment with while you figured out how to get your life back on track.”  
“Draco, that was never true,” Harry looked him directly in the eyes, “You were the reason for everything. All the things I’ve done for these past months have been about you.”  
“I know that now,” Draco sat down on the edge of the bed, “Harry, when I saw Ida fire that curse at you last night… I felt like I was the one dying. The only thing I could think of us dying to save you. And then this morning… waiting to see if everything was okay… I’ve never felt so worried and restless in my life. You make me feel grounded, Harry. You make me feel like my life is worth so much more.”  
“This seems like a very roundabout way to tell me something,” Harry said softly, a grin forming curling up the edge of his mouth.  
Draco laughed and shook his head, “Even when I’m trying to confess my love for you you’re a bloody wanker.”  
“You love me?” Harry asked.  
“Of course,” Draco said.  
Harry could feel tears forming in his eyes, “I’m sorry. For everything I did that was stupid. Especially accusing Blaise. That was never supposed to be spiteful, I really need you to know that.”  
“I do, Harry,” Draco whispered, “I forgive you.”  
“And I’m sorry…” Harry began.  
“Harry, not to be rude, but I’m not taking in anything you’re saying,” Draco gave a small grin as he stared not so subtly at Harry’s lips  
“My eyes are up here, Draco,” Harry said softly.  
Draco looked back up and Harry’s whole body seemed to go numb. One look at the lust intensifying in Draco’s gaze could send Harry to pieces. Without thinking, he grabbed the edges of Draco’s oversized coat (something he had been dying to do for quite some time) and pulled Draco towards him. Their lips met, gently at first but then more intensely as they began to pour all of their words, spoken and unspoken, into the kiss. Harry’s senses were all Draco: his smell, vanilla and coconut and him. The feeling of his skin and hair as Harry moved his hand to grasp onto strands as if they were his own personal lifeline. He pulled Draco as close as possible, wanting more and more and not thinking he could ever have enough of this.  
When they pulled apart, Harry moved aside so that Draco could lie down beside him. They lied there for a moment, catching their breath.  
“Why is it that every time I kiss you it feels like the first time?” Draco whispered.  
“It’s because I’m the Chosen One,” Harry whispered back.  
Draco glared at him, “Don’t make me regret my decision to have feelings for you, Potter.”  
Harry snorted, “It’s too late, anyhow. My kids are already too attached to you.”  
“Why? We met one time!” Draco pointed out.  
“They’re very smart. They know a good thing when they see it,” Harry said.  
“They must have mistaken me for some other blonde bloke you’ve been snogging,” Draco joked, “There’s no way they want me to be your boyfriend.”  
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Harry said, “They like you. I think it’s mainly because they like Scorpius, but we’ll have to take what we can get.”  
Draco laughed, the sound light and freeing, “I love you, Harry Potter.”  
Harry turned to him and placed a hand on his cheek, “I think you’re really great.”  
Draco rolled his eyes but leaned in to kiss Harry anyway.  
\---

“You should be good to go home tomorrow, Mr. Potter,” the Healer Mateh said.  
“That’s great news!” Hermione said. She was sitting in the chair next to his bed. Ron was sitting on the floor in front of her with his back propped against her legs. The two of them had been in the room for the past ten minutes. They had been in plenty of times the day before to see Harry, but they had promised to come back the following day to spend some time as just the three of them. Maybe this time it hadn’t been the three of them saving the day together, but without saying they knew they needed this. It always came back to the three of them.  
“Yeah, mate,” Ron said cheerfully.  
“But you have to take it easy. I saw some of your visitors yesterday. If that’s a hospital visit for them, I can’t imagine regular day to day activities are calm and collected,” Mateh said.  
Harry laughed. He had a feeling the healer was talking about George, who had brought in Roxy and Fred while his kids and Luna were still in the room. The combination, while highly entertaining, was not the quietest.   
“I may have to avoid certain family members but I’ll make it work,” Harry told the healer.  
Mateh smiled, “You have to do what you have to do. I’ll be back later, Mr. Potter, before I leave for the day. Let me know if you need anything.”  
They all said goodbye as Healer Mateh made his way out the door.  
“Quite a looker, isn’t he, Harry?” Hermione commented.   
“Hermione!” Ron protested.  
“What? I’ve gone my whole life feeling excluded when you two talked about relationship things. Harry’s in my territory now,” Hermione countered.  
“For your information, Hermione, Ron and I hardly talked about relationship things,” Harry pointed out.  
“Mate, that’s because you really only dated my sister,” Ron said.  
“Fair point,” Harry agreed.  
A knock on the door caused them all to look up. Harry hoped it was Draco; he had left a couple of hours ago to go home and get some sleep and Harry was thinking he would be back sometime soon. But, to his and Ron and Hermione’s surprise, Healer Brayan made his way into the room.   
“Healer Brayan?” Harry asked. He noticed Ron shifting awkwardly in the chair besides him. There was no doubt in Harry’s mind that Ron felt immense guilt for allowing Brayan to be falsely accused.  
“Harry, my boy,” he said. Although he tried to speak with his usual confidence, Harry could hear in his voice the stress and harsh revelations he had endured in the past forty eight hours.  
“What are you doing here?” Harry asked, wincing when the words came out more accusatory than he had planned, “Sorry, I mean I’m happy to see you. I just didn’t expect you to be back working so soon.”  
“Despite what I’ve been through in the past couple days, it’s against my nature to not be at St. Mungos in a time of crisis. The Healers need all the help they can get, what with all the people injured in last night’s fight, so I’m here,” Brayan waved his hand as if to dismiss this all, “But that’s not what matters. What matters is that you are alive and doing well, Harry. It would have been quite a misfortune, to not only this hospital but all of the wizarding world, to lose you.”  
Harry was surprised at the humility in Brayan’s words. Despite how much he had always admired Brayan, the man had never been known for his humbleness.   
“Thank you, Healer Brayan. That means a lot,” Harry told him.  
“Please, Harry, call me Darius,” Brayan said, “We are far past the niceties of a student teacher relationship.”  
Harry smiled, “I agree, Darius.”  
“Healer Brayan,” Ron blurted, his nervousness reflected in his repetitive tapping on Hermione’s knee (that is until she swatted his arm to make him stop), “I’m so sorry. I should’ve realized you were under the Imperius curse. We all should have. Or at least, we all should have sooner.”  
“Mr. Granger- Weasley,” Darius looked Ron firmly in the eye, “None of this is your, or any of the other Aurors, with notable exceptions of course, fault. Ida knew what she was doing. From what Draco told me…”  
“Wait, you talked to Draco?” Harry interrupted, “When?”  
“Sometime this morning,” Brayan said, “For someone who hasn’t slept in almost forty eight hours, he is a very good conversationalist.”  
Hermione snorted while Harry said, “That sounds about right.”  
Harry tried to not worry that Draco hadn’t been back to see him in hours. He was sure that he was getting some well deserved rest, that was all. There was no reason for Harry, absolutely none at all, for him to worry about Draco being gone for several hours without contacting him. Just because Harry wanted to spend every waking minute with Draco now that he knew Draco liked him back didn’t mean that’s what Draco wanted.  
“Anyway, Draco explained everything,” Darius said, “About my father.”  
Darius inclined his head towards the edge of Harry’s bed as if to ask if he could sit down. Harry nodded and Darius took a seat. He looked much more exhausted and uneasy now that he brought up his father.”  
“Did you know your father was a pureblood?” Ron asked, “And I’m not trying to accuse you of anything. I’m just wondering.”  
“No. Honestly, I did not,” Darius stated, “My mother always told me my father was a muggle. But, from what Draco told me, that you must have heard as well, my father was one of the founding members of Kareach.”  
“No!” Ron gasped.  
“Yes, it’s true,” Brayan heaved a large sigh, “Ida was smart. It made for the perfect setup. Here I was, claiming I was a halfblood when she knew that my own father was not only a pureblood but a Kareach member. Of course, she didn’t bring up any of this in my confession. She wouldn’t expose Kareach. But Draco explained everything to me this morning. The goal of Kareach, the poison they used, the plan to use me as their scapegoat. I’ve still barely processed any of it. How terrible it all is!”  
Harry nodded solemnly, “It really is. Especially from someone we all respected and trusted.”  
“I looked that woman in the eye,” Hermione said bitterly, “I called her a friend. I talked to her at bloody gatherings with my friends and family. And the whole time, she had no problem stunting my reproduction.”  
Darius looked at Hermione’s round stomach in shock, “Mrs. Granger-Weasley! What will happen to your child?”  
“Don’t worry,” Hermione reassured, “The poison can’t affect a pregnancy that is already underway. There should be no complications from the poison if I stay careful for the next couple of months.”  
“Thank goodness,” Darius breathed a sigh of relief, “I can’t believe you, and so many others, won’t be able to have any more children. And it’s all because of my own father. My whole life, I’ve never known my father, but I always imagined him as someone who was like me. Who worked hard for a greater good. I thought I couldn’t know him because my mom didn’t want to involve him in a life with a witch. But I was wrong, I couldn’t know him because he was the exact opposite of the man I have become. He is someone who wanted the destruction of others and went to great lengths to find a way to do just that. It’s just so… devastating.”  
“I’m so sorry, Darius,” Harry said softly.  
“I’ll just do everything in my power to prove I’m not that man,” Darius said, as if he was reassuring himself, “I’m not that man and I will never be him.”  
“No, Brayan, you are not,” Ron said, “And from all the Aurors, we apologize for ever thinking so.”  
“Really, Ron, you have nothing to apologize for,” Brayan said, “Really, I’m quite thankful that I was merely accused of a crime. Nothing happened to me. Not like…” he trailed off as his voice cracked. He looked down at his feet.  
“Like Healer Patrick?” Harry finished.  
Brayan nodded, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks, “Yes. Oh, Harry, you know how fantastic she was. Everything she did was for this hospital. She was one of the best Healers this hospital had ever seen. She gave her life to help save as many innocent lives as possible, and for that, we need to all remember in the best possible light.”  
“I couldn’t agree more,” Harry concurred.  
Darius wiped the tears from his face, “Well, at least she went the one way she would have wanted. Fighting to protect others.”  
“You’re right. I couldn’t imagine her going any other way,” Harry added, his voice rough as he thought of Healer Patrick leaving a shift at the hospital to go and fight at the Ministry. It probably never crossed her mind not to go. The woman did everything for others.   
“It sounds as if a service for her is being held this Friday,” Darius said, “I hope you will all be there.”  
“We will,” the three of them answered.  
Darius nodded and said goodbye to the three of them. When he had left, the three sat in silence, all deep in thought.  
When Ron began to speak, it pierced through the silence like a knife, “It has been so long since someone I knew died.”  
For the first time since the attacks had begun, Ron’s voice sounded small. Scared. Unsure.   
“I mean,” he continued, “I’ve been around death my entire career. It’s not like after the war the possibility of losing my loved ones just disappeared. It has just… been so long since I’ve truly had to come face to face with the possibility that I could lose more people I love. Or that they could lose me.”  
Hermione looked at Ron with tears in her eyes, “I know what you mean. When Padma sent owls to everyone, letting them know what was going on at the Ministry, I felt like I was back at Hogwarts. When we never really knew if each day would be our last.”  
“But we took down Kareach,” Harry put in, “Isn’t that a reason to celebrate?”  
“It can’t be,” Ron said, his voice hollow, “Kareach existed without our knowing for what could have been centuries. Who’s to say what else is out there, just waiting to try and take over the Ministry? Just ask Hermione, she heard about stuff like this everyday, all around the world.”  
“You’re right Ron,” Hermione said softly, “I do see stuff like this. Wizards and witches being killed for what they are, not who they are. And I’m not going to lie, that’s terrifying for me. As a muggleborn, it’s always going to be scary to think there are people out there who hate me just for being who I am. Yesterday, I almost lost my mind thinking about what would happen to my family if something like this happened again. I did already lose my ability to reproduce,” she placed her hand on her stomach. Her voice shaking, she continued, “But we can’t live our lives in fear. We didn’t back then, and we can’t now. Yes, my career can be scary, having to face all the issues in the world on a daily basis. But it’s also shown me the inherent goodness that is still present. I spent all day yesterday answering owls from concerned ministers, asking what they could do to help and make sure nothing like this happens anywhere ever again. There are many great wizards and witches out there that have been entrusted to help run the wizarding society, and they want nothing more than to see societies like Kareach wiped clean from history. There is hope. I see that everyday. That has to be enough for us to move forward.”  
After Hermione finished speaking, the room fell quiet again. Harry took in what Hermione was saying. She was right: he would always worry for his kids, his family. But he knew there was goodness. Just thinking about Draco; how someone that was raised in a home that valued the subjugation of muggleborns now almost died to bring down an organization that believed in just that. If something like that was possible, anything was.   
“You’re right, Hermione,” Ron placed his hand on top of hers, “We are all okay. Our family is going to be okay. That’s what I need to focus on.”  
Hermione smiled, her eyes shining as she bent over to give Ron a kiss, “I love you,” she whispered. She then turned to Harry, “I love you too, Harry. And I am so, so glad you are alright.”  
“Thank you, Hermione,” Harry said softly.  
“Harry?” Ron whispered.  
“Yes, Ron,” Harry said, the sudden nervous look on Ron’s face making him crack a small smile.  
“Are you and Draco…” he trailed off and looked at Hermione, who shot him a look that clearly told him she was not helping in this.  
“Yes,” Harry answered, “We are.”  
“Mate, that’s fantastic,” Ron said, standing up and going to sit at Harry’s side, “And I mean that.”  
Harry grinned, “I’m glad you approve.”  
Ron shook his head, his face falling, “Don’t smile at me like that. I don’t deserve it. I wasn’t supportive when you and Ginny first told me. I wasn’t there when both of you needed me most. I’m not upset that you and Ginny aren’t together. I mean, I am, but I’m more happy that you two are happy. Ginny seems to really like Blaise. And you seem to really like Draco. That’s what matters. I support you in whatever makes you happy, mate.”  
“Thank you, Ron,” Harry said, gripping onto Ron’s arm.  
“And I like Draco. He’s fucking awesome. I don’t know where any of us would be without him,” Ron stated.  
“Life really is bizarre,” Harry said, shaking his head.  
“I know. I am happy for you and Gin, but I still can’t believe you two ended up with Slytherins,” Ron said.  
“ ‘Ended up’ is a strong word,” Harry pointed out, “Draco and I just got together yesterday.”  
“If you think you two aren’t in this for the long haul, you’re insane,” Hermione said, smirking, “I saw Draco just this morning, leaving from your room. I have never seen a Malfoy look that happy in my life.”  
Harry blushed slightly, “I do really care for him.”  
“Then don’t fuck it up,” Hermione said matter of factly.  
“Goodness, Hermione,” Harry laughed, “I forgot how direct pregnancy makes you.”  
“How could you?” Ron asked, “When she was pregnant with Rose she told me I’d probably look better if I wasn’t a ginger.”  
Harry laughed while Hermione said, “I never said that!”  
“She did, but I can’t argue,” Ron said, “I have never pulled off red hair well.”  
The three of them fell into a fit of laughter that didn’t stop when a knock sounded on the door.  
“Come in!” Harry gasped through tears.  
Draco walked through the door. Harry’s heart jumped into his throat. Was he going to be this taken aback every fucking time Draco walked in the room? Although he still looked as though he hadn’t slept in days (most likely because he hadn’t), he looked stunning with his hair freshly combed back and with a soft blue jumper and black jeans.   
“Draco!” Hermione said, “How are you?”  
He smiled at her, looking much more at ease knowing they were excited to see him, “Great, Hermione. You are looking lovely.”  
“That’s a fucking lie,” she turned to Harry, “I like him.”  
Draco smiled softly, “I can come back later if this is a bad time.”  
“No,” Ron stood up, “We are just leaving.”  
Harry watched as Ron helped Hermione out of her chair and to her feet. As they made their way to the door, Ron turned around to face Draco,  
“You better not break Harry’s heart,” Ron said.  
“Wasn’t planning on it,” Draco answered softly.  
Ron nodded and he and Hermione left the room. Draco walked over to the bed and bent down, giving Harry a painfully slow kiss.  
When Draco pulled away, Harry said, “Merlin, I could get used to this.”  
Draco smiled, “You better. I’m not going anywhere.”  
Harry smiled, but his smile began to falter as he studied Draco’s face. Up close, Draco looked even more exhausted than before.  
“Did you even get any sleep?” Harry accused.  
“I showered!” Draco argued, picking up a strand of his still damp hair.  
Ignoring an urge to run his fingers through said hair, Harry shook his head, “As much as I appreciate that, you needed sleep.”  
Draco shrugged, “I was busy.”  
“With?” Harry asked.  
“I…” Draco started, but the door flung open.  
“Harry?” Molly said from the doorway.  
Harry was surprised to see Molly back so soon (she had been there a couple hours before) and he was especially surprised to see her look so excited? Upset? It was hard to tell with her sometimes.  
“Oh, Harry!” she rushed over and enveloped both Harry and Draco in a hug.  
It occurred to Harry now that he hadn’t told Molly about him and Draco yet. His heart hammering, he realized he would have to do that now. He opened his mouth to tell her, but she spoke first.  
“Draco told me everything. I am so happy you’ve found someone so exceptional!” she beamed at Draco.  
“He… what?” Harry asked, extremely confused.  
“Draco came over to the Burrow a few hours ago to tell me about your relationship. He wanted to make sure I was one of the first to know, as a mother figure to you,” she smiled at Draco.  
“You…” Harry trailed off, still trying to process what was going on.  
Draco winced, “Are you upset? I should have let you tell her. But I felt so guilty with everything that I wanted Molly to know from me that I had nothing but good intentions.”  
“Don’t be upset with him, Harry,” Molly added, “It was a very caring action. I am glad both you and Ginny have found someone who makes you so happy and cares about you so.”  
“I’m not upset,” Harry said softly, “I don’t think I’ve ever been less upset.”  
“Daddy!” the door flung open to reveal Lily, followed by James, Rose, Al and Scorpius.  
“Sorry, dad,” Albus said, “She insisted on seeing you.”  
“No, come on in!” Harry smiled. He watched as the kids filed in and gave hugs to their grandma and said hello to Draco. As Lily climbed onto his bed and curled up in a ball beside him, Harry finally began to understand how great life could be.


	15. Epilogue

“Your whole body freezes and you can’t move,” James explained.  
“You can’t move at all?” Lily asked, her eyes wide.  
“Nope,” James shook his head.  
“And you’ll do that to Al if he doesn’t shut it?” she asked, “Cool!”  
“Dad!” Al shouted.  
“James, stop threatening to perform Petrificus Totalus on your brother,” Harry said, “Albus, you know he can’t use magic during the Summer so stop worrying about it.”  
“I’m not worried,” Al snapped, glaring at his brother, “I just don’t think he should threaten me and then get our little sister on board.”  
“You were rude to me!” Lily insisted.  
“It’s true, you were,” Scorpius added in while Rose nodded in agreement.  
Al shot a glare at Scorpius and Rose, “I thought you two were supposed to be my best friends.”  
“We are,” Rose shrugged, “But I wouldn’t mind it if you couldn’t talk or move.”  
James laughed as Al pulled a face at Rose. Harry watched as Al stalked over to Roxy, Fred, Dom, Louis and Victore, who were standing with their parents in the front of the venue. They were all at the wedding of Lavender and Parvati, about two years since the Imperius attacks had come to an end. It was a nice summer day, a perfect day for an outdoor wedding. The wedding was being held at Lavender's parents house, a beautiful cottage in the countryside with a large backyard large enough to hold their lengthy guest list.  
Scorpius and Rose went over to join Al. In a few moments, they had all begun a game of tag, seemingly over the fight they had had less than a minute before.  
Draco laughed beside him, “I’m still amazed at how quickly those three makeup.”  
Harry smiled and reached out for Draco’s hand, “That’s what best friends are for.”  
“So you’re telling me that you, Ron and Hermione make up that easily?” Draco asked.  
“Hell no. Have you met Ron and Hermione? They are two of the most stubborn people I know,” Harry laughed.   
Draco snorted, “I can’t argue with that.”  
Harry startled as something rammed into the back of his legs. Having an idea he knew exactly what it was, he turned around to face none other than Lacey Finnigan-Thomas.  
The one and a half year girl let out a loud giggle and then threw her hands up into the hair, indicating that she wanted Harry to pick her up. He wasted no time, bending down to hoist her onto his hip.  
“Hiya, Lacey!” Lily said from his side.  
“Hiya indeed,” Harry smiled at the bright eyed child, who was dressed for the occasion in a blue summer dress, “Where are your parents, sweet girl?”  
“Right here!” an out of breath Dean made his way towards Harry, “She saw you and Draco and took off.”  
“I’m really starting to feel she likes you two more than us,” Seamus commented, appearing behind his husband.  
“Starting to feel that way?” James joked.  
Seamus shot James a half-hearted glare and ruffled his hair, “You take that back, Weasley-Potter. I’m not scared of you just because you learned some spells.”  
“You should be,” Lily piped up, “He could make it so you can’t move your body. Not even your eyes.”  
“Teaching your daughter well, I see?” Seamus asked, grinning at Harry.  
“Are you implying we have no control over our children?” Harry joked, “Because while you may be right, let’s just remember that your daughter just took off running as soon as you arrived.”  
“I think we have more of a grip on this parenting thing than that,” Draco said.  
“Yeah, right,” James commented.  
“Alright, alright, you two go and play with your cousins,” Draco told James and Lily.  
James rolled his eyes but grabbed Lily’s hand and led her over to the large group of cousins that was growing as more and more families arrived.  
A laugh behind them made Harry turn around. Ginny and Blaise had arrived.  
“The classic ‘go play with your cousins’?” Ginny said, “I approve, Draco.”  
Between Ginny and Blaise was their own daughter, Vella. Vella had been born about a year before, making her almost the same age as Lacey. Seamus and Dean had adopted Lacey a little less than a year ago.   
“Poke fun all you want,” Draco said, “But if Vella was old enough, you two would have sent her to play tag by now.”  
“We’re not denying it,” Blaise said matter-of-factly, “Our plan is that she becomes best friends with Lacey and they keep each other busy whenever they are together.”  
“A genius plan indeed,” Harry agreed, “Al has been thoroughly distracted since birth, what with Rose being his same age. Now he has Scorp as well. The three basically raise each other.”  
Ron snorted as he appeared from the front yard, “It’s true. Rose was the easiest child in the world. I wish I could say the same for this one,” his whispered as he nodded back at Hermione, who was leading their son Hugo towards the group.  
Hugo was almost two years old and was about the most enthusiastic child he had ever met. While Hugo was typically extremely well behaved, especially for his age, he had more energy than perhaps any one he had ever met, and he had experienced George Weasley having two children. As Hermione made her way towards them, Hugo was jumping up and down the entire way.  
“Hi, Hermione,” Harry said, passing Lacey to Draco as she was reaching for him.  
“Hello,” she smiled at the group after giving Harry a hug, “Beautiful day for a wedding, eh?”  
As soon as she released Hugo’s hand, he took off towards his group of cousins, who were now all sitting in a circle on the grass, playing what Harry assumed was duck duck goose (they really did know every muggle game in the book).  
“Rose!” Hermione shouted towards them, “Watch after your brother!”  
She turned back towards the group, “Who’s ready for the wedding of the century?”  
The group laughed. Both Parvati and Lavender had been planning their wedding essentially since they were five years old. Harry could remember countless days in the Gryffindor common room, when the two of them would sit side by side on a couch and discuss their dream weddings for when they got married. Harry loved the fact that all those times, the two had no idea that they would be marrying one another.   
“Another gay wedding for the Gryffindors,” Seamus said, “All those years Lavender and Parvati spent talking about boys, and here we are. I still can’t believe that out of our entire Gryffindor class, only two of us ended up being straight.”  
“That’s my fault,” Ron said, holding up his hands, “I really wrecked the theme we have going on here.”  
“You and Neville need to get hitched,” Seamus joked.  
“And tear Neville away from Hannah? I think not,” Ron shook his head.  
“How about: ‘and take me away from Hermione? I think not’” Hermione said.  
“That’s what I meant,” Ron said sheepishly as the rest of the group laughed.  
“What we really need is a Harry and Draco wedding,” Seamus said cheekily.  
Harry blushed slightly as Draco rolled his eyes. The truth was, Draco had proposed a little over a week ago. The two hadn’t told anyone yet as to not draw focus from Lavendar and Parvati’s day.  
“Back off, Seamus. I heard it took a good five years for you to propose,” Draco shot back.  
“Not to mention the fact we’ve been best friends since we were eleven,” Dean added.  
Seamus turned to his husband, “You too?”  
Dean shrugged, “I would have married you a month into dating.”  
Seamus gave a soft smile, “Same here.”  
“Saps,” Ron said, causing the whole group to laugh.  
“Everyone take their seats!” a hassled looking Mrs. Brown came out onto the lawn.  
“Hurry, I am not getting on that woman’s bad side,” Blaise said to the group.  
Laughing, Harry and the rest of the group made their way towards the group of kids, gathering their own and heading towards the chairs arranged in arches in the center of the lawn.  
\---  
“They both look so pretty,” Aviary whispered from beside him.  
Harry nodded in agreement. Parvati and Lavender were having their first dance. Lavender had chosen a floor length white gown with plenty of lace, while Parvati was wearing a shorter fitted white dress. As they held close to each other, Harry could see the clear love and adoration in their faces. They really cared about each other.  
“Gorgeous,” Seb chimed in from Aviary’s other side. He had a hand on her shoulder.   
“When can we do that, Av?” Seb pleaded with his girlfriend.  
She rolled her eyes, “I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times. I don’t want to get married.”  
“But I would look so fine in dress robes,” Seb said, batting his eyelashes for emphasis.  
Despite herself, Aviary giggled, “As long as we’re together, I don’t see what the problem is. I am never going to stop loving you, Seb Haffer.”  
Seb smiled softly and leaned over to kiss Aviary. The two of them had begun dating, ironically, after Seb had come over to Harry’s house during a party to ask Harry if he wanted to give a relationship a shot. After the initial awkwardness as Harry explained he was dating Draco now, Seb and Aviary had gotten to talking. Now, here they were, about two years later, more in love than ever.  
As the music of Lavender and Parvati’s first dance came to an end, a classic Twisted Sisters song began playing.  
“This is one of my favorites!” Aviary said giddily. She grabbed Seb by the hand and led him onto the dance floor.  
That left Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ron, Dean and Seamus at their table. The six of them began talking about which part of dinner was their favorite (Harry was partial to the steak) when a gasp from Draco stopped them.  
“What?” Harry said. He knew Draco well enough to know the gasp wasn’t for something bad, but for something surprising, He followed his fiance’s wide gaze to the dance floor.  
“Oh, my goodness!” Harry exclaimed.  
This forced the rest of the table to look towards the dance floor.  
“Woah!” Dean said.  
“No way!” Ron put in.  
“Quiet!” Hermione said, swatting Ron and Dean’s arms, “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”  
On the dance floor were Pansy and Padma, dancing in a way that was much more than friendly.   
“What is happening?” Draco whispered, “Since when are those two interested in each other?”  
Harry shrugged. The last time they had all gotten together, Padma and Pansy had gotten into a fight over whether or not the next Minister of Magic should be Caroline Platt, a high ranking official in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. The fight had ended in Padma tossing a scone at Pansy and storming out in the room. The way Pansy was gazing into Padma’s eyes, however, suggested that none of this had ever happened.  
“It’s a Harry-Draco situation!” Seamus whispered, “All the fighting and bickering was to cover up an undeniable sexual tension!”  
Harry choked on the sip of water he was drinking, “Excuse me?”  
“What?” Seamus said innocently, “It’s what happened. These two pulled the same stunt.”  
“At least I didn’t pull a Seamus-Dean and pretend I wasn’t in love with my best friend for years,” Harry shot back.  
“I think that is also known as a Ron-Hermione and Pansy-Lavender,” Dean commented thoughtfully.  
Ron snorted, “It’s the best way to fall in love, I won’t deny it.”  
Draco rolled his eyes, “No matter how it happened. Pansy is dancing with someone I don’t dislike!”  
“Everyone shut up!” Hermione snapped, “They’re coming this way!”  
Sure enough, Pansy and Padma were making their way towards the table.  
When Pansy approached, she began to speak, “We saw the staring, our not so subtle friends.”  
“Where’s our explanation!” Draco demanded, causing Harry to kick him underneath the table.  
Padma grinned sheepishly, “We’ve been dating for a couple weeks.”  
“Weeks?” Draco said, as much of the table broke out in surprised chatter, “And you didn’t think to tell your best friend?”  
“No, because you make a big deal out of everything,” Pansy said simply.  
“How did this happen?” Seamus asked.  
Padma looked at Pansy and then said, “It was after the whole scone throwing debacle. I realized that the real reason I was so upset with Pans had nothing to do with her political opinions.”  
“Nope,” Pansy said, throwing an arm around her girlfriend.   
“Sometimes,” Padma said, smiling at Pansy, “The heart of life is really fucking good.”  
“What does that even mean?” Seamus asked.  
“It means life is a fucking disaster, but that doesn’t mean everything is terrible,” Padma shrugged, “There’s a good in the center of everything. You just have to get through the shitty parts.”  
“Wow,” Ron said, “Padma, I never expected you to be the sappy type.”  
Padma laughed, “It comes out every once in a while.”  
Draco still looked shocked, but Harry cut in to whatever question he was about to ask by saying, “Let’s go and dance.”  
By the look Draco gave him, he knew that Harry was only trying to distract him, but he obliged anyway, standing up and following Harry to the dance floor.  
“Everyone is falling in love,” he murmured as they walked, “It’s fucking fantastic.”  
“It is, isn’t it?” Harry said, leaning over and kissing Draco.  
“Eww, dad!” Lily said, appearing behind them.  
Draco laughed as he began to twirl Lily, “Padma was right. The heart of life is fucking good.”


End file.
